


All the Things That Are and Will Be

by Mauve_Avenger



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Anti-Kataang, Bloodbending (Avatar), Coming of Age, F/M, Gen, Just kind of tangential Zutara, Kataang but it ends, Katara (Avatar)-centric, Katara comes into her own, Not even slow burn, Sibling Bonding, Slight zutara - Freeform, Zutara, anti-aang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 61,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23053252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mauve_Avenger/pseuds/Mauve_Avenger
Summary: Katara's life is on track, but when destiny begins to feel like a trap, she turns to the one person who could possibly understand what she's going through.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Hama & Katara (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar)
Comments: 161
Kudos: 291





	1. Chapter 1

**_Chapter 1_ **

Katara chewed at a bit of loose skin around her nails as she stared intently up at the sky. The moon wasn’t quite full tonight, but she could still feel it tugging at her. It was a rope wound through her body pulled tight by the moon, and plucked by the tides. Sleep was a near impossibility, and would be every night for the next few days. 

_ At least I'm alone _ , she thought, wrapping her arms around herself. 

Katara shut her eyes against the moonlight, and took a deep breath. The energy from the moon almost had a scent to it. If she inhaled deep enough, maybe she would be able to identify it. Maybe she would be able to climb inside of a moonbeam and live in it forever. She wondered if the sun pulled on Zuko this way during the height of the day. Or if Toph ever felt the urge to crawl into the heart of a mountain and lose herself to the earth. Aang, she knew, would live above the clouds forever if he could, but he only ever looked at her strangely when she described how she felt during the nights when the moon brought her to full strength. How could  _ he _ , of all people not understand? She didn't even try to explain the other part. The reason why she needed to be alone. 

Katara turned her back to the moon and faced her cavernous room. King Kuei had been generous with their sleeping arrangements at the palace. But even with all the space separating them, Katara could sense her friends. She didn't really even have to try. Their blood called to her as steadily as the water in the pond beneath the window. 

Sokka and Suki- newlywed and still madly in love- had the furthest room. They were awake, too, but relaxed. Katara assumed they were having one of their late night talks, planning their future. Aang was in the room next to them, fast asleep. He had plans, too, fed by Sokka and Suki's happiness, but Katara wasn't ready to hear them. His heart thumped lightly in his chest, quick and fragile. Katara frowned at that thought. How could a boy so powerful be so breakable? 

Katara pulled her focus away and fell into lotus position on the balcony. Maybe meditation would help calm the tempest raging beneath her skin. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She turned her attention to her own heartbeat.

_ In... _

_ Out... _

_ In... _

_ Out... _

_ In… _

Her heartbeat was slow but solid. The blood moved unhurried through her veins, taking it's time carrying water to the different parts of her body. She shifted and rolled on to her back. Then Toph began to snore loud enough to hear through the open balcony doors. It would be simple to turn her back over...

Katara opened her eyes with a snap. She jumped to her feet, her own heart slamming against her ribcage.

_ “Hama,”  _ she growled. She hadn't spoken to anyone about the witch in nearly five years, but she was on Katara's mind constantly. Never more so than during the week of a full moon. She took a shuddering breath. No meditating then. She needed to find something else to distract herself with.

Zuko was the furthest from the group at the other end of the long corridor. As visiting royalty, he had gotten an entire suite to himself. King Kuei had even made sure it faced the east so that the Fire Lord could meditate at sunrise, something Katara wasn't sure he would do on this trip. He had told her once that he preferred to meditate at night.

“Fewer people ,’ he had explained at the time. “It gets distracting with all the people around in the morning.”

“Does  _ everyone _ in the Fire Nation rise with the sun?” Katara had asked him then. Zuko's mouth curled up into a smirk. He remembered the first time he said those words. They had become a private joke between the two over the years.

“Well, they do at the palace,” Zuko told her. Katara shuddered at that.

“What a nightmare.” 

Katara found Zuko's heartbeat last. It wasn't even slightly muffled by the heavy doors between them, but it blended with the others. A steady undercurrent in a rushing river. Katara noticed it wasn't as slow as Aang or Toph's hearts. She wondered if that meant he was awake. She decided to go check.

She padded out into the hall as lightly as she could, careful not to disturb Toph. There wouldn't be any guards directly in the corridor for Katara to run into. Any assassin that was crazy enough to attack this particular group would quickly learn why.

When Katara reached Zuko's door, she paused for a moment. She couldn't hear any movement behind the heavy door. The low hum of his blood rushing through his veins was there, though. If Katara focused, she found could pick him out. He was moving back and forth, pacing, Katara guessed. She lifted her hand and knocked lightly. She sensed him pause. Turn towards the door. She could picture the uncertainty on his face as he tilted his ear towards the door like a polar bear-pup. She knocked again, a little louder this time.

“Katara?” He greeted her in surprise when he opened the door. He blinked a few times, then stood aside to let her into his sitting room.

“I couldn't sleep either,” Katara explained. She sat down in one of the soft armchairs and tucked her legs beneath her. Zuko sat on the one across from her.

“So you came to bug  _ me _ ?” 

“I figured since you were still up, you wouldn't mind.” Katara smiled. Zuko wasn't really annoyed with her, but she knew he would be curious what was on her mind.

“How did you know I was up?” 

“Would you believe intuition?” Katara quirked her brow and tried to hide a smile. Zuko let out a bark of laughter.

“Sure,” he said sarcastically. “But just this once.” Katara made a face at him, then let her head roll back against the chair.

“So,” she said after a moment. “Why are you still up?” Zuko shrugged.

“Time difference, I guess. It's the middle of the afternoon at home.” Katara nodded. She understood that, though she had never really experienced it herself. For whatever reason, she never really had a problem adjusting to new time zones. Except during the full moon.

“Zuko?” She dropped her gaze to her knees and drummed her fingers against them. Why was she suddenly so nervous?

“Yeah?” Zuko shifted so he was resting casually in his chair. Katara wasn't fooled though. She had his undivided attention. She took a breath and asked the question that had been on her mind all night.

“Does the sun... affect you?” 

“What do you mean?” Zuko tilted his head curiously. Katara fiddled with her fingers and tried to find the words.

“Like are you...um...does the sun ever make you feel…”

“Really strong?” Zuko guessed. 

“Something like that. Yeah.” Katara nodded. Zuko sighed and leaned forward, his hands on his thighs. 

“Not all the time, if that’s what you mean,” he told her. “But there are times when the sun pulls on me stronger than others. During the summer. Especially during the equinox. It's not as powerful as when the comet went by, but the effect is still stronger than normal for fire benders. During the last equinox, I almost set the throne room on fire because I forgot to pull back. You know the tale of Lodai, the strong man?”

Katara nodded. Aang had insisted on seeing the play while they were in Omashu the summer before. Lodai had been cursed by a spirit with superhuman strength. Suddenly, it was as if the whole world were made of paper. He kept accidentally breaking things and hurting people because he didn't know how to control his newfound strength. In the end, he never lost his strength, but he adjusted and learned that it wasn't a curse after all.

“That's what it's like for fire benders during the equinox,” Zuko told her. “And the summer, sort of.” Katara sighed.

“It's like that for me during the full moon,” she confessed quietly. “It’s normally not anything drastic. I might have trouble sleeping or something. Waterbending gets easier for me, of course. But lately…”Katara frowned. 

“What’s wrong?” Zuko asked. Katara leaned back in her chair and looked up at the moon. She could feel the strength of it. She felt like its conduit.

“It’s like I can’t ignore the pull lately,” she told him. “And tonight I…Well, I could feel you all.” Zuko blinked in surprise. 

“You mean with your…” 

“...bloodbending,” Katara finished with a sigh. She looked away in shame, but she didn’t feel any judgement from Zuko. Still, she assured him, “I wasn’t actually...you know. I just...I can feel everyone without trying.” 

“Is that how you knew I was awake?” Zuko asked. Katara nodded. “What does it feel like?” 

“It’s like…” Katara thought for a moment. “It’s like water, but it’s- I don’t know- alive? I’m not using any of it, but I’m  _ very _ aware of it. It...calls me differently than the ocean or rivers. Does that make sense?” She turned to Zuko. He was rapt. His brow furrowed as if he was working out a puzzle. 

“I  _ think _ I understand,” he said. “Fire feels alive, too. That’s why we have to work so hard at control.”

“I’m not sure I  _ can _ control it,” Katara confessed. “I’ve asked Pakku about it, but he says he doesn’t feel like this. The moon affects him, but he says it’s nowhere near the strength I’ve described.” 

“Have you tried meditating?” Zuko suggested. Katara snorted and rolled her eyes. 

“I’m dating Aang,” she said. “Of  _ course _ I’ve tried meditating. And a vegetarian diet. The meditating helps a  _ little _ . The vegetarian thing just made me cranky.” Katara almost smirked at that. Her giving up being vegetarian caused the biggest fight she and Aang had ever had, which was saying a lot, if she were to be completely honest. Zuko responded with a noncommittal shrug. 

“You say meditating helps a little?” he asked. “What happens when it doesn’t work? Is it that you can’t focus?”

“It’s...kind of, I guess.” Katara got up and walked to the balcony doors. She stared up at the moon. The glow made the light from the sconces superfluous. Katara shut her eyes and breathed in the scent from the damp garden below. The combination of the smell and the moonlight made her head spin a bit. As if she had had one too many glasses of wine. 

“The full moon is coming,” she almost whispered. Zuko came up behind her. She could feel the concern radiating from him like the heat of his firebending. 

“And it’s making it hard for you to focus,” he guessed. Katara nodded. She opened her eyes and turned to face him. He was leaning against the doorframe, and as she expected, his brow was drawn with worry. 

“When I try to meditate when I feel like this, I find myself following the pull of anyone around me. If there’s no one around me, I feel like I’m falling into myself.”

“That sounds pretty scary,” Zuko said. Katara shook her head.

“That's just it. It's not  _ scary _ ,” she told him. “It should be, but it's not. It’s...exhilarating. I  _ should _ be scared. I don't know why I'm not.” 

Zuko studied Katara for a moment. Then he turned his gaze to the candles burning on the mantle. He was thinking about his reply. Katara appreciated that. When she tried to talk to Aang about it, he had dismissed her concerns as simply not focusing hard enough on meditation. He had suggested she join his air acolytes in their lessons on not only meditation, but Air Nomad philosophy and culture. It had been interesting, but not very helpful. In fact, the more Katara learned about the lifestyle of the Air Nomads, the less she thought she was cut out for actually adopting it. All it had done was add to her frustration and remind Katara to introduce Aang to more Water Tribe customs.

“Why are you frustrated?” Zuko asked, startling Katara from her thoughts.

“Oh…” She scrambled to remember what he had asked. “I guess it's because I don't feel like I'm in control of my bending. And every full moon reminds me that there's a part of me that could do amazing things if I just…” Katara made a motion with her hands that reminded Zuko of threading a needle before she gave up and just threw them up helplessly. Zuko seemed to understand, though. He nodded and stared into the flames.

“You know Uncle has been teaching me lightning bending.” Katara shuddered, remembering the last time she had seen that particular power on display. Her hands twitched at the memory of Zuko's wound knitting together beneath them. She could still feel the rough ridges of the scar she knew was still on his chest beneath his pajamas. 

“I didn't know,” she replied. “How is it going?” Zuko shrugged and faced her.

“He says I'm getting there. And I believe him because that feeling of being on the edge of something powerful? I feel it, too.”

“You do?” Katara leaned forward eagerly.

“Maybe not as strongly as you feel it, but I know what you mean. ” Zuko shrugged and shifted uncomfortably. Relief washed over Katara.

“I thought it was just me,” she said. Tears stung her eyes, and she hurriedly blinked them away. “I thought I was losing my mind.” Zuko moved closer and brushed an errant tear from Katara's face. 

“Not anymore than usual,” he joked gently. Katara rolled her eyes but smiled. Zuko took a step back and crossed his arms. “You're just still learning your power. You need guidance. Like I have with Uncle.” Katara bowed her head.

“I'm not sure Pakku can help,” she said. 

“Then find someone who can.” 

“Yeah, because  _ that'll _ be easy,” Katara snorted. Zuko shrugged.

“Pakku isn't the  _ only _ master water bender,” he pointed out. “Didn't you tell me about the swamp benders? Why not visit them? Maybe they can help.” Zuko yawned and stretched his arms over his head. Katara glanced back up at the sky and noted that the moon was hanging much closer to the horizon. It was very late. 

“I should let you sleep,” Katara said. She paused at the door. “Thanks, Zuko...for listening.”

“Any time, Katara.” Zuko smiled at her, a thing so rare, she was afraid to point it out to him. Instead, Katara smiled back and slipped into the dark hall and went back to her room.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Zuko set something in motion that night, though he didn't realize it. It took Katara herself a few days to realize what she was planning. Then it took another few weeks more to figure out how to carry her plan through. By then she had travelled with Aang to the Fire Nation to meet with Zuko and Iroh about some piece of foreign policy. 

“I can't wait to see Iroh,” Aang called over his shoulder. Katara smiled politely and nodded her head. She had missed the aging general, too, but she was honestly more anxious to speak to Zuko. She would need his help if her plan was going to work. She wanted his advice, too. 

“How much longer do you think we'll be?” Katara asked. She moved to the front of the saddle so she was behind Aang.

“Less than an hour,” Aang said. He grinned at her before he leapt up and joined her. He pointed to a cloud in the distance. “Doesn't that one kind of look like a rabaroo?” Katara squinted at the cloud and had to admit, it did look that the fluffy long legged animal in mid jump.

“That one sort of looks like an igloo,” she said pointing out a different cloud formation. “A very poorly made one, though.” Aang studied the cloud for a moment and shook his head. 

“I don't see it. It looks more like a pregnant woman” Katara blinked in surprise and turned to Aang.

“How in the world are you seeing _ that _ ?” 

“It  _ does _ !” Aang insisted. “If she was laying down.” 

“If you say so,” Katara relented with a dubious smile. Aang chuckled and shrugged.

“I guess I just have babies on the brain.” He said it off-handedly, but it struck Katara like a boulder. She forced her mouth into wry smile and quirked her brow.

“Oh?” she replied lightly, dropping her gaze to Aang's flat stomach. “Something you need to tell me?”

“No!” Aang yelped. His face flushed bright red and he shook his head. “I was just... you know... thinking...Sokka and Suki just got married and I thought maybe you might have thought about…”

“Those two with kids?” Katara laughed. “Sure, someday. But I don't think they're ready  _ just _ yet.” Aang blanched for a moment.

“That's not what I meant.” Aang took a deep breath and reached into his pocket. Katara's heart sped up. Her lungs clenched tightly and made breathing difficult. She glanced over her shoulder.

“Look!” She almost shouted and scrambled to the front of the saddle. “We're here.” Aang stared at her for a long moment, then he sighed and pulled his empty hand out of his pocket. 

“I sure hope they have lunch ready,” he said as he settled himself at Appa's reins. He said it cheerful, but something had changed in his voice. His cheer sounded forced. Katara ignored it. She curled up in a corner far from Aang and watched the island chain below lead up to Caldera.

When Appa landed in the palace courtyard, Katara jumped out of the saddle and slid down Appa’s haunch to the ground. Zuko and Iroh were waiting for them, Iroh waving eagerly and Zuko with his arms folded across his chest, but a hint of a smile on his face. 

“My two favorite firebenders!” Katara greeted them. She hugged first Iroh, then Zuko. In her excitement, she almost asked to speak with him in private before she had let go of him completely. But she didn't quite dare. Not with Iroh or Aang standing there. She wasn't ready for everyone to know what she was doing yet.

Zuko must have seen something of her thoughts on her face. He cast her a concerned glance over Aang's shoulder as he embraced his friend. Katara shook her head subtly and smiled. Zuko quirked his eyebrow at her and promised he'd leave it alone for the moment.

“Are the others here yet?” Aang asked excitedly. 

“You two are the first,” Iroh told him. “But Sokka, Suki and Toph should be in by noon tomorrow.”

“Lunch should be ready for us soon,” Zuko said. “I can have you served in your rooms, if you're tired.” 

“No way!” Aang declared. “We didn't come all this way just to eat in our rooms. We have a ton of catching up to do. I have to tell you about Bumi's new-”

“Actually,” Katara cut in. “I'm pretty tired. I think I'd rather have a bath and eat in my room.” Aang flushed lightly and he protested.

“Katara, you can't just-”

“It’s fine,” Zuko insisted. “Honestly, I know how tiring travel can be.”

“Thanks, Zuko.” Katara shot him a grateful glance. “We can catch up over dinner or breakfast tomorrow.”

“Ha!” Zuko snorted. “For you that means lunch.” Katara shrugged as he flagged a servant down. 

“It only seems that late to you because you get up unreasonably early.” 

When Zuko’s friends visited, they weren’t given the opulent visiting dignitaries quarters. They were given rooms in the wing reserved for the family members of the Fire Lord. They were cozier than the dignitary rooms, thanks to Iroh's decorative touch. Someday, they would house Zuko's wife and children and possibly his wife's family, but for now he was happy to have his extended family use the rooms. 

Katara threw her small rucksack on to her bed before dropping down beside it with a sigh. Someone would bring the rest of her belongings to her room later, so she decided to wait to clean up. It was always a treat when she went with Aang to visit royalty. She didn't mind taking care of her own luggage, but she loved when she didn't have to. It almost felt like a vacation. Not that she had ever had one of those.

A knock at the door woke Katara from a light sleep. She stared at the door in confusion for a moment before she heard it again. She reached a hand up and scratched her head, wincing at the feel of her hair- all dry and poking up at strange angles. 

“Yeah…?” Her voice was scratchy. 

“Hey, sweetie,” Aang called from the other side of the door. “It's me.” Katara threw her legs over the side of the bed. Someone had brought her bags, along with a covered tray of food while she was sleeping, and the smell of it made her realize how hungry she was. Aang knocked again, and Katara went to let him in before she started her meal.

“Woah…” Aang was taken aback by Katara's bedhead and bleary eyes.

“Hey, Aang.” She left the door open and went to where her food had been left on her desk. Her mouth watered automatically when she lifted the lid from the tray. Komodo chicken with rice and exotic looking steamed vegetables. 

“I thought they would have sent you what they sent me,” Aang said. He was looking over her shoulder with a slight disapproving frown. “Remember we talked about how a vegetarian diet would help you with your bending.” Katara scoffed, trying to sound playful instead of irritated.

“Yeah, I remember you  _ suggesting _ that," she said. "And I told you if you found a good substitute for tigerseal jerky, I'd consider it. I gave your vegetarian thing a shot. It's not for me.” Katara dug into her meal, savoring the taste. She loved her tribe's food, but there was something about the seasoning in Fire Nation food that she found almost addicting. 

“You didn't give it a  _ fair _ shot,” Aang insisted. “You would like it if you tried it.”

“Aang, all I know how to make that's vegetarian is congee and vegetables sides. That gets old really fast.’ Katara moved so her body blocked her plate from Aang's view, though part of her noted that he was free to leave her to eat alone if it bothered him so much.

“Yeah, I guess congee  _ does _ get boring,” Aang admitted. “The Air Nomads made amazing food.” He sat on her bed and grinned the way he did when he remembered his childhood with the Nomads. Katara usually found it endearing. “You could learn to cook some of our recipes. That way you'd only have to cook one meal.”

“Or  _ you _ could cook them.” Katara looked over her shoulder pointedly. Somehow, despite the fact that Aang was now older than she was when they'd met, he still left most of the chores to her when they travelled together. That included making Aang his own meal when she made anything with meat in it. He flushed consciously and had at least the grace to look embarrassed.

“Well... I'm not as good at it as you are,” he mumbled. Katara turned back to her meal and rolled her eyes. 

“I wasn't always good at cooking either, you know,” she told Aang. “I'm just saying it wouldn't kill you to try.” 

“You're right, sweetie,” he sighed. Katara thought she must still be tired and cranky, because Aang's usual pet name for her set her teeth on edge and made her want to roll her eyes. It might also have been that she suspected Aang was placating her with a promise they probably both knew he wouldn't keep. He never had before.

“So what brings you by?” Katara asked. Aang's face brightened with excitement. 

“Iroh told me that there's a hill overlooking the bay,” he said. “I was thinking maybe we can have a picnic breakfast there tomorrow before everyone else gets here. Zuko and Iroh are going to be busy most of the morning, so we'll have that whole time to ourselves.” 

Aang looked so eager and hopeful that Katara forgot about her irritation. They had come to the Fire Nation for business, and while Katara wasn't scheduled to be anywhere the following day, she was sure there was something more pressing that Aang could be working on. She chose not to say anything, though. Aang was newly seventeen. He was no longer a child, as he liked to remind everyone. He was old enough, Katara thought, to take responsibility for his own calendar. It made her proud sometimes to see how far he had come from the somewhat flighty boy she and Sokka had found in the iceberg five years earlier. 

“Okay,” Katara agreed. “We can have a picnic tomorrow.” 

“Great!” Aang grinned at her and clasped his hands excitedly. “I’ll ask one of the cooks to fix us a basket. It’ll be great! You’ll see that vegetarian food can be so much more than congee. The Fire Nation has great vegetarian dishes. We can watch the sun come up and-”   
  


“No!” Katara cut him off. “No to that last part. I am  _ not _ getting up to watch the sunrise.” Katara made a distasteful face at that. “Let’s go around nine.” 

“But the sunrise is beautiful here.” Aang’s face fell, but Katara was unmoved. She crossed her arms and shook her head firmly.

“I  _ hate _ getting up that early,” she said. “If you want to watch the sunrise with someone, you can go with Zuko.” 

“Zuko’s not my girlfriend,” Aang pressed. Katara shook her head. 

“Well  _ your  _ girlfriend’s not a morning person. And you  _ know _ this about me already. That is not going to happen.” 

“But you  _ do _ get up early sometimes.” Aang wasn’t going to give up without a fight. Katara felt some of her earlier irritation coming back. 

“I get up early when I  _ have _ to,” she said. “It’s not fun for me.”

“But I want to share this  _ one  _ sunrise with you,” Aang insisted. “I promise this  _ will  _ be fun.” Katara rolled her eyes. Aang may have grown up, but his sense of fun hadn't. Not much.

“We can have breakfast  _ after _ sunrise. I'm sure the view will be just as nice.” 

“Why are you being so stubborn?” Aang was scowling now. 

“ _ You're _ the one being stubborn here,” Katara said. “I have  _ never _ been a morning person. What made you think I'd agree to a sunrise picnic?”

“You'd have a good time if you just gave it a chance !” Aang insisted. “Come on! This is just like meditation and giving up meat. You won't even  _ try _ !” Katara's eyes snapped up to Aang flashing angrily. He shrank back, immediately realizing he had crossed a line. 

“You know what?” Katara ground out through clenched teeth. “You can go on your stupid picnic alone! Get out.”

“Wait, Katara, please…” Aang looked at Katara with pleading wide grey eyes. It was a look that had often cooled her irritation when Aang occasionally put his foot in his mouth, but it wasn't working now. 

“Nope,” she said. "Get out.” Aang made a couple of steps towards the door, but he wasn't actually leaving.

“Katara, please,” he tried again. “It's just I wanted to make this a special date.” His girlfriend was in no mood. 

Fine.” She stood up and folded her arms. “I'd still like you to go now.”

“Katara, are...are you really mad?” Katara fought to hold on to her irritation, but she found it more difficult than it was worth. She sighed and shook her head 

“I'll get over it,” she assured Aang. His shoulders sagged in relief.

“I  _ hate  _ it when you're mad at me. And we can have the picnic later in the morning.” 

“Thanks, Aang.” Katara found a smile for him, and then Aang left. 

Katara hadn't been sleeping long, she realized. There were several hours until dinner, but not much for her to do in the meantime. She decided to have a long bath and wash her hair. This was another luxury she liked to take advantage of when she visited the palace. 

When she emerged from her suite an hour later, feeling cleaner and ready for company, she headed for the library. It was a favorite haunt of Iroh’s and she thought she would challenge the aging general to a game of Pai Sho. She had nearly beaten Master Paku once, and she thought she had enough experience to give Iroh a good game. It wasn’t Iroh that Katara found in the library, though. 

“Hey, Zuko.” The Fire Lord glanced up from the scroll he was reading.    
  
“Hey,” he greeted her. “Give me a second, I’m almost done.” Katara flopped onto a chair by the open balcony doors and waited. Zuko joined her a few moments later, rolling the scroll up and setting it on the table between them. 

“Is it any good?” Katara asked, pointing to the scroll. Zuko smirked. 

“It’s land ownership law,” he told her. “It’s as dry as stale toast, but someone’s got to read it.” Katara winced sympathetically. 

“Sorry, friend.” Zuko shrugged and smiled wanly at Katara.

“What brings you to the library?” he asked. 

“I was hoping to catch Iroh,” she told him. “I've been craving his tea.”

“I think he's in his office. I can take you there, if you want.” 

“That’s okay,” Katara waved his offer off. “Actually, I wanted to speak to you alone, anyway. If you're not too busy, I mean.”

“Not at all!” Zuko exclaimed. “I could use a break.” He had been hard at work the entire day. Aside from taking a quick lunch with Iroh and Aang he hadn’t had a break. He was due one now, he figured. He watched Katara expectantly.

“I need your help with something,” she said. 

“Absolutely,” he agreed immediately. Katara laughed at his eagerness. 

“You haven't even heard what it is yet,” she warned him. “What if I'm about to ask you to have someone killed?” Zuko shrugged his shoulders and settled into his chair.

“I trust your judgement. I'm sure you have your reasons.” Katara laughed again and shook her head. Zuko rested his chin on his hand, and Katara noticed for the first time the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow. It was strange to see such a blatant reminder that he was an adult. Sokka, she mused, would be jealous.

“What is it you need?” Zuko asked. Katara chewed her bottom lip and leaned forward so her forearms were resting on her knees 

“You remember that talk we had the last time we saw each other?” Zuko nodded slowly

“I remember,” he said carefully. “What about it?”

“You told me that I should find someone to learn from.” Katara dropped gaze to her hands folded together between her knees, and fiddled with her thumbs nervously. “Someone other than Master Pakku.”

“Yes. Did you find someone in the Foggy Swamp?” Zuko tried to keep his confusion from his face. He had never met the swamp benders. He wasn't sure how he could help Katara with them. They would probably be more likely to speak with her directly than him. But Katara shook her head.

“No,” she said. She chewed her bottom lip nervously. “There's only one person who can possibly understand what's happening to me. I...I need to see Hama. She was arrested and I assume taken to a Fire Nation prison, but I don't know which one.” Zuko's eyes widened and his body stiffened, but he was otherwise calm. Katara thought that might have been shock though, and not incredible self control.

"You want to track her down ...?" Zuko said the words uncertainly, as if they were in a foreign language.

"Yes...And," Katara paused hesitantly and cleared her throat.

"And?" Zuko prompted.

"And... I might need you to pardon her." She watched him process her statement worriedly. What if he refused to do this for her?

“Well," he said, finding his voice. "Well, I'll do what I can. I can't promise a pardon right now, but let's cross that bridge when we get to it. I'll find out where she is and you can go talk to her."

"I knew I could count on you." Katara sighed in relief.

Zuko flushed and, sitting back in his seat, cleared his throat.

"Sure." 

"There's one more thing," Katara said. The hesitance in her voice made Zuko look up. 

"What is it?" He prompted.

"You're the only one I've told about this," Katara explained. "I'm going to tell the others eventually, but I'd rather wait until I know where Hama is."

"We're in the cone of silence," Zuko promised. 

"You've spent too much time with Sokka," Katara chuckled, shaking her head. "Thanks, Zuko." 

"Any time." Zuko stood and gathered the scroll he had been reading. "Well, I can’t take another minute of this. You feel like sparring before dinner?” Katara stood up with a challenging smirk on her lips. 

“You feel like being humiliated before dinner?” she countered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Cobra on the Cob. You made me giggle!

**_Chapter 2_ **

Katara looked around in confusion. Her room was still dark, and she felt she couldn't have been asleep long. A glance at the clock on the wall confirmed her suspicion. It was about an hour before dawn, and only about three since she had gone to sleep. She was about to turn over and go back to sleep, when she heard it again. The sound that had woken her in the first place. Someone was knocking at her door.

Katara thought about ignoring her rude visitor- the knocking didn't sound very urgent after all- but whoever was there was annoyingly persistent. After the knocking picked up, Katara threw her legs off of the bed with an irritated huff. 

“This had better be real freakin' important,” she grumbled. There was another knock as she shuffled across the room. “I'm coming!”

Katara furrowed her brows and blinked in sleep addled confusion. Aang stood outside her door. He was dressed smiling widely at her. 

“Huh…?” was all Katara could say. 

“I've come to get you for our picnic,” Aang told her. That cleared up absolutely nothing for Katara.

“What…?” She rubbed her eyes, trying to clear the sleep haze from her eyes. The hall's torches burned low in their sconces, making it even harder to focus on Aang's face. “What are you talking about? We're not going until later, remember?” 

“Well…” It may have been a trick of the flickering light, but Katara thought she saw a light blush across Aang's cheeks. “I thought I'd surprise you with a sunrise picnic after all.” 

“ _ Excuse _ me?” Suddenly, Katara was feeling much more awake. “I told you I don't  _ want  _ to see the sunrise. I'm  _ tired _ , Aang. I want to sleep!"

“I got us a carriage,” Aang pressed. “You can sleep on the way there.” Katara shook her head firmly.

“No!” she said. “I don't want to sleep in a carriage. I'm  _ not  _ going.” Several emotions flashed across Aang's face, the most prominent was disappointment.

“ _ Please _ , Katara,” he begged. “The sunrises here are beautiful, and-”

“I don't  _ care _ about the sunrise!” Katara cut him off. She fought down a wave of guilt as she dug in. Aang had a habit of pleading until he got his way. Katara didn't know why she chose this moment to stand firm, but she was determined not to give in to him this time. “I'm going back to bed.”

“Katara, wait!” Aang's hand shot out to stop Katara from closing the door on him. “Please! You  _ have  _ to come. I... I have something to talk to you about.” 

Katara was sure her heart missed a beat. When it picked up again, it thudded against her chest painfully. The air in the hall suddenly felt stuffy and close. She pushed against the door gently, so Aang would get the hint.

“I'm sure it can wait, Aang,” she pleaded. “Honestly, I was up late. I'm really tired. I don't want to go with you right now.” Aang's face fell in disappointment, then his mouth twisted into a scowl. Katara hadn't seen that expression on him often, but one of the few times she had, he opened a volcanic fissure in her face. She took a step back away from the door.

“Fine!” Aang snapped. “I was just trying to do something nice for you.” Katara's apprehension was quelled by her irritation.

“No you weren't!”she hissed. The last thing she wanted was to wake anyone by yelling at him. “If you were trying to do something for  _ me _ , you would have listened to me  _ yesterday  _ when I said I didn't want to have a sunrise picnic.” There was no mistaking the rush of color in Aang's face for a trick of the torchlights. His cheeks darkened to a deep angry red.

“You're being unreasonable," he said. "I can't talk to you like this." He grabbed the doorknob and yanked it shut with a bang. Katara had just enough time to snatch her fingers clear. She stared at the door for a long while quaking with rage. She was torn between running after Aang to tell him off, and wanting to curl up on her bed and cry. After a while, she decided that her relationship had been too full of both recently. She waited until her breathing had gone back to normal, then went to pick out her clothes for the day. Sleep was a distant memory now. 

The sun’s rays were just starting to stretch out over the horizon when Katara stepped out of her room, but she could already hear the sounds of the place waking. A few servants passed her with quick respectful bows before hurrying on to the morning’s duties. Katara made her way to the garden. As long as she was up, she decided to practice her bending by the pond. At the very least, she hoped it would help her work off some of her anger. 

She wasn’t the only one who had decided to start their day in the garden. Iroh and Zuko sat side by side on a wide flat rock beside the pond. They faced the sunrise, and Katara guessed by their postures that they were meditating. Katara back tracked quickly, not wanting to disturb their focus, but her foot upset a loose stone on the stairs. The clattering got Zuko’s attention. He turned sharply and saw Katara before she could retreat. She waved awkwardly. 

“Sorry,” she half whispered. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Zuko shook his head.

“It’s fine,” he told her, climbing to his feet. “I was having trouble concentrating anyway.” He glanced over at his uncle ruefully. The old man hadn’t moved at all. Zuko sighed and went over to Katara. 

“I thought you liked to meditate at night.” Katara followed Zuko over to a small table near the tea magnolia tree and settled in the seat across from him. Zuko shrugged. 

“Uncle invites me to join him sometimes,” he said. “Why are  _ you  _ up so early?” Katara crossed her arms and scowled. 

“Aang,” she muttered. “He wanted to take me on a sunrise picnic.” Zuko winced. 

“ _ You _ ?” he asked. “He tried to get  _ you  _ up to watch a sunrise?” 

“My reaction exactly!” Katara exclaimed. She winced at the volume of her voice and glanced over at Iroh before she lowered her voice. “I told him  _ yesterday  _ that I didn’t want to go, but he came by this morning just expecting me to change my mind. And then he-” 

“He what?” Zuko asked. Katara shook her head. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she huffed. “He’s just...such a brat sometimes. Everything has to be  _ his  _ way.” Katara sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to dump this all on you. I know Aang’s your friend, too.” 

“Yeah,” Zuko said with a reassuring smile. “And because he’s my friend, I know how he can be sometimes. He can't imagine anyone not being as enthusiastic as he is about one of his  _ fun  _ plans. Remember when he wanted me to ride an unagi with him?” Katara let out an involuntary guffaw.

“I remember that,” she said. “The look on your face when you saw the unagi for the first time was priceless!” Zuko narrowed his eyes and smirked.

“You know, I didn't want to do it in the first place,” Zuko admitted. “But he got me with that look. You know the one.”

“The ' _ why did you just kick Momo in the teeth' _ look?” Katara mimicked the face that had convinced her to do so many things she hadn't wanted to over the past few years. She widened her eyes and let her lower lip tremble as if she were on the verge of tears. Part of her felt that she was being disloyal to Aang, but it was hard to stop. She was tired and still angry. She might regret speaking so candidly later, but for the moment, it just felt good to vent. 

Zuko didn't seem to judge her for it. He tried not to laugh outright at her impersonation. 

“Look, there’s nothing major happening today until the others get here,” Zuko told her. “If you want, you can go back to bed.” Katara declined with a careless wave. 

“I’ll take a nap later. I can’t sleep now.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that you didn’t get enough rest.” Iroh had come up behind the pair. He smiled affably as he took the remaining seat at the table. “I hope your room is comfortable enough.” Katara smiled at him. 

“Good morning, Iroh,” she greeted Zuko’s uncle. “No, the room is fine. I just had a misunderstanding with Aang this morning.” She laughed lightly, but there was a tightness in her jaw that neither of her companions missed. 

“Since you’re up won’t you join us for breakfast?” Iroh asked. 

“Breakfast sounds great.” Katara sighed. “Will there be any of that drink from the Earth Kingdom?”

“Ah! Yes,” Iroh chuckled as he signaled for a servant Katara hadn't seen. “I'll make sure we have plenty of coffee for you.”

The kitchen staff must have been preparing breakfast already, because less than twenty minutes later, there was a feast of eggs, meats, fruits, cheeses, and a tureen of congee brought up to the garden. As Iroh promised, along with the Fire Lord and General's customary tea, there was a carafe of coffee accompanied by sugar and cream in porcelain containers. Katara wished she had thought to tell someone in the kitchen to save them. She preferred coffee plain when it was good quality coffee, and the Fire Nation had begun importing the best. Zuko made her concern irrelevant, though, when he poured himself a cup and added generous helpings of the cream and sugar. There was more food than the three of them could eat, but Iroh assured Katara that nothing would be wasted. The daily meals were shared with the palace staff, so everything would eventually be eaten.

“I'm so happy the rest of our friends will be joining us soon,” Iroh said. “It's been so long since I've seen you all together. I have planned so many fun things for us all-”

“Uncle,” Zuko cut in with a warning tone. “They're coming to work. We'll spend whatever time we can with you, but we’re going to be in meetings most of the time.” Iroh waved him off.

“Yes, yes of course I understand that. That's why I built an extra day or two into the schedule.” Zuko did a double take.

“Wait what?”

“Katara?” The trio turned towards the balcony overlooking the garden and saw Aang looking down at them with a strange look on his face.

“Good morning, Aang,” Katara greeted him pleasantly. She was determined not to let her irritation at him ruin breakfast. “You want to join us?”

“I already ate,” he said significantly. Katara ignored his tone and went back to her meal. She picked up a plump sausage link and bit into it. 

“Perhaps you'd like a nice cup of tea then,” Iroh offered. 

“Thanks anyway, Iroh.” Aang's cheerful tone was forced, and Katara was sure Iroh and Zuko could tell. Still Katara pretended nothing was wrong.

“Are you sure?” she asked with a breezy civility that didn't sound quite as genuine as she had hoped. “Iroh made that ginseng blend you like. Or there's coffee in case you need it.” That was evidently the wrong thing to say. Aang's face flushed bright red, and he couldn't keep the scowl off of his face. 

“Katara, can I speak to you?  _ Alone _ ?” That was a summons if Katara ever heard one, and now  _ she  _ wanted scowl. She was a bit better at keeping her anger under control, though. She poured herself some more coffee as she replied.

“We can talk after breakfast,” she said evenly. “You can sit with us, or I'll come find you when I'm through.” Now Aang's nostrils were flaring, a rare but clear sign that he was getting very angry. Katara ignored that, too. He was far too used to having his way, and Katara figured now was as good a time as any to break him of that. At least as far as she was concerned. Especially if he…

Katara cleared her throat and glanced up at her boyfriend. He had managed to school his face into a mask of calm, though there were still twin splotches of pink on his cheeks. She watched him struggle to maintain his composure with a sort of clinical detachment. Aang could be stubborn about having his way , but now she wondered if he would actually dare to try to cause a scene in front of their friends. She wouldn't let him, and of course he must know she wouldn't. But would he try?

“I'll go check on Appa,” Aang said at last through clenched teeth. Katara smiled to herself and nodded slightly in approval. He knew at least this limit.

“Great. We can meet in my room when we're done,” she told him. Aang stared at her hard for a moment, and then he spun on his heel and went back inside. Iroh and Zuko watched him leave.

“What was that about?” Iroh asked. Katara shrugged.

“I'm not sure.” She wasn't. As far as she figured, she was the one who should have been irritated. Normally Aang would have bounced back from his disappointment already. Unless he was under the impression that they were still going on a morning picnic. A swell of guilt rose in Katara's chest, but she forced it down immediately. If Aang thought they were still having a picnic after his stunt that morning, that was on him. Mostly. Katara took a sip of coffee, hoping one bitter taste would chase away the other.

“I hope everything is alright,” Iroh mused, distracting Katara from her thoughts. She found a smile for the kind, aging man, then turned to the garden, so her friends wouldn't see her roll her eyes. 

Aang wasn't waiting at Katara's room after breakfast as she expected. She took the opportunity to go through her bending forms. It was a good distraction, especially since she hadn't been able to train like she intended that morning. She went slowly, taking notice of the placement of her feet and arms, and experimenting with her center in the transitions. 

It had been a while since she had gone through the basics this way, and she was pleased to discover she had only gotten a little sloppy in a few places. What she really wanted was a good sparring session. Maybe she could talk Zuko into another round later. Or Toph, if she wasn't too tired. Aang usually held back too much to be a good sparring partner. Although, maybe he wouldn't if they sparred while he was angry with her.

There was a knock at her door, and Katara realized that she had been practicing for almost an hour. Sweat beaded along her forehead and neck, and dampened her tunic. She would have to wash and change later.

“Come in,” she told Aang while she found a towel. Aang stayed by the door. Katara sat on her bed and watched him expectantly. 

“You wanted to talk?” she prompted him at last. Then Aang sighed deeply and took a seat on the chair across from Katara. 

“What happened this morning?” he asked. Katara raised an eyebrow at him.

“You tell me. I thought we agreed yesterday not to have a picnic at sunrise. I told you I didn't want to get up early and you did it anyway. What did you think my reaction would be?” Aang looked out of the window with a petulant pout on his lips.

“You had breakfast with Iroh and Zuko,” he said. “It was still pretty early.” Katara shrugged.

“Well I figured since I was up anyway,” she muttered. Aang turned back to her, still frowning.

“Well, why didn't you come find me?” he asked. “I still had our breakfast.” Katara looked at him for a long moment before he answered.

“I was angry at you,” she told him honestly. “I didn't  _ want  _ to eat with you. And I didn't want fruit for breakfast.”

“I had congee, too,” Aang said defensively. “And tea.” Katara fought the urge to roll her eyes. Of course he would skip right over the fact that she was angry with him.

“Whatever,” Katara mumbled. “Aang, what do you want?”

“I wanted to spend time with you,” he retorted crossly. “I... I had something to say...to ask-” 

“And it couldn't wait for a reasonable hour?” Panic had made Katara's voice much sharper than she intended. Why was she trying so hard to avoid this, she asked herself. It had been a long time coming, and yet…

“I wanted it to be special!” Aang stared at her intently. She could almost hear him begging her to understand the question he hadn't asked yet. She shook her head.

“Special for who?” Katara snorted, ignoring Aang's eyes. “Not for me, clearly.” Katara sighed and crossed the room to the wide windows. “Look, Aang, we're just going in circles now. I didn't want to go on a picnic at dawn and you knew that. So just apologize and let's move on.”

Behind her she heard the chair scraping as Aang jumped up from his seat. She spun around to see him glowering at the floor. For all his height, he looked so much like the twelve year old she had met five years earlier. Had she imagined all the growth she had seen in him? 

“I'm sorry,” Aang said unconvincingly, as if he had never had to express that sentiment before. 

_ Had  _ he ever had to apologize for anything, Katara wondered. Really apologize and not just placate her. He had done things that needed to be apologized for- the times he had insulted her culture and traditions because they weren't as ‘pure’ as the Air Nomads; the incident with the lava fissure; the time she had brought up that it made her uncomfortable to see how much he enjoyed and even encouraged the attention other girls lavished on him because he was the Avatar. She had ended up apologizing to him for that last one, come to think of it. Now she had told him point blank that she wanted an apology and the best he could do was this reluctant, pouting concession. And now Katara wondered, was that good enough?

“Alright,” she said quietly. “Alright.” The tension bled from Aang's shoulders and his annoyed glare melted into a smile. It was warm sunshine after a brief storm. Everything was back to normal.

“Great!” he exclaimed. “Can I ask you that question now?” Katara turned back to the window to hide her frown. She was so tired.

“Not now,” she said. She glanced back at him and found a thin smile. “I'm going to try to take a nap before the others get here. I didn't get much sleep last night.” Aang looked disappointed, but he agreed and left Katara's room. When he was gone, Katara stretched out on her bed, buried her face in her pillows and wept.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Katara hadn’t been able to sleep after Aang left, but she wasn’t in the mood to speak to him again. When it was time to meet the others at the docks, she took the long way to the courtyard hoping to avoid being alone with Aang. At one point, she thought she spotted the yellow cloth of his monk’s robes and ducked behind a tapestry. When it turned out to be a servant, Katara stayed in her hiding place out of sheer embarrassment. She was far too old for this game. At last she made it to the courtyard where Zuko and Iroh were already waiting beside the carriage that would take the four of them to the wharf and the spare that would bring the larger group back.

“Are we all ready to go?” she asked. Then she frowned and looked around. “Where’s Aang?” Zuko and Iroh exchanged surprised looks. 

“Um...he went to get you, we thought,” Zuko told her. Katara shrugged, though she inwardly heaving a sigh of relief. 

“Must have just missed him,” she said. “Oh well. He’ll figure it out.” 

As it turned out, Aang didn’t figure it out. In the end, Iroh had to send a servant to find him. When he arrived, he had a slight frown and his brow was furrowed. 

“I went to get you,” he told Katara. “I thought you would have waited.” 

“You didn’t say that earlier,” Katara shrugged. “Sorry.” 

“But we always-”

“We’re all here,”Katara cut in. “We should get going if we’re going to make it to the docks in time to meet the ship.” She spun on her heel and climbed into the carriage, not quite missing the look of hurt on Aang’s face. Zuko climbed in next and sat across from Katara. When it was Aang’s turn to get in, he shot Katara an irritable look and sat next to Zuko. Iroh took the remaining seat by Katara and signaled for the driver to go. The journey began in silence with Aang brooding, Katara pretending nothing was wrong and Zuko and Iroh pretending not to sense the tension between Aang and Katara. 

“Caldera is looking good,” Katara commented once she thought the silence had gone on long enough. 

  
“Um...er...yeah,” Zuko stammered. “We’ve started a lot of improvement projects.” 

“The Mechanist is going to visit us,” Iroh told her. “He’s going to help us install electric lights in the city.”

“Oh!” Katara’s face lit up with genuine interest. “Like in Gao Ling?” Toph's home had taken what the governor called the first leap towards modernization by hiring the Mechanist to install his latest invention. It would make candles and torches obsolete, Sokka had told his sister when he heard the news. He had then immediately reached out to his old mentor about wiring the Southern Tribe some time in the near future. The still struggling tribe couldn't afford to pay as extravagantly as Gao Ling, but the Mechanist agreed to do the work for a song. 

“Yes.” Iroh smiled across at Zuko fondly. “My nephew is hoping that the project will create new jobs in the city.” Zuko blushed under the praise. 

“It’s just a start,” he said. “I want to get electricity to all of the country, but I have to find space in the budget.” 

“If you need help,” Katara offered, “I’m not bad with finances. I helped my father find money to build a school back home.”

“That took months,” Aang said sharply. “I can’t stay in the Fire Nation that long.” His three companions looked at him oddly. 

“No one’s saying you have to,” Katara replied as calmly as she could.

“So you want me to leave you here?” Aang demanded. “You told me you weren’t happy when I was traveling and you stayed behind.”

“This is different.” Katara could feel a headache beginning behind her eye, but she kept her voice level and calm. This would  _ not  _ become an argument, she vowed to herself. “I wasn’t helping as much at home anymore. I’d be helpling here.”

“You help  _ me _ ,” Aang insisted. Katara fought the urge to snort at that.  _ Sure _ she helped him. 

“I know you have a lot of obligations as the Avatar, but I don’t have a whole lot to do while you’re in meetings. I can stay here in the Fire Nation for a while and help Zuko and Iroh while you do what you need to.” There was a finality to Katara’s words, although nothing official had been decided. Aang sat back in his seat and folded his arms. 

“We can talk about it later,” Zuko said. "I wouldn’t even be able to begin for a while yet. But I really would appreciate your help." Katara nodded to him gratefully. For the rest of the trip, Katara, Iroh and Zuko kept up an inconsequential conversation about the plans for the evening and for the next few days that the Gaang would be in town. No one brought up infrastructure or budgets again. 

The ship carrying the rest of their friends had docked by the time the carriages rolled to a stop. Conversation had ceased once again, but it was such a short lapse that the four passengers could almost pretend it was an amiable silence. Then the arrival of the last three of the group supplied enough noise through the crush of hugs and loud happy greetings that Sokka, Suki and Toph didn't notice anything was wrong until they were on their way back to the palace. That was when Toph realized that she was in the carriage with Zuko, Iroh and Katara.

"Hey, what happened to Aang?" she asked. Katara shrugged carelessly. 

"Guess we got split up in the confusion," she said breezily. "No big deal." Toph didn't say anything, but she was sure she had heard Aang calling her to the other carriage.

Sokka and Suki had spent the better part of five minutes exchanging significant glances when they realized that Aang sat across from them with Katara conspicuously absent. Sokka had seen Aang beckoning Katara to join them, but he concluded that maybe his sister hadn't.

"How was your trip?" Suki asked. Sokka could hear the probing tone if Aang couldn't, and he watched his friend carefully. Aang grinned widely, showing way too many of his back teeth.

"It was great!" he declared. "We had to give Pakku and Gran Gran a lift to the Northern Tribe, but after that it was just Katara and I all the way to Caldera. I think she's a bit tired from the trip, though. She's been in kind of a mood. But she'll snap out of it.' Aang finished with a nod and a slightly less manic smile, as if he had just solved a difficult problem. When they returned to the palace, Aang approached Katara, head high, shoulders squared, and a magnanimous smile on his face. Katara seemed thrown momentarily, but after a quick glance at her brother and sister-in-law, she returned his smile kindly. 

“I won’t be able to join you all for dinner, I’m afraid,” Iroh announced as the carriages pulled off. “But you are welcome to join me for tea this afternoon, if you’d like. I’ll be in my study all afternoon.” Sokka and Suki promised to stop in after they had gone to their room and freshened up. Toph wasn’t worried about that though.

“I’d love some tea,” she declared. “And custard tarts if you’ve got any.” 

“Custard tarts sound great,” Aang agreed. Iroh laughed and promised them both all the tarts they wanted. As they started to the palace, Aang paused and turned back to Katara. “Are you coming?”

“That’s alright,” she said. “I think I’m going to go to the pond and practice for a while.” Aang’s smile slipped some.

“Maybe you should rest,” he suggested. “So you can enjoy dinner tonight.” 

“I’m fine.” Katara didn’t know why she was bristling, but she could feel her shoulders tightening. She needed to get a work out in so she would release some of the tension stiffening her spine. 

.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Despite sitting next to him all through dinner, Katara had managed not to speak to Aang directly all evening. Anything she said was generally addressed to the table. It was made all the easier by the fact that he didn't seem to have much to say either. He just gazed at Katara lovingly and gave the others attention only when they spoke directly to him. Katara wanted so many times to tell him to stop staring at her. If only she could do it in a way that wouldn't draw everyone's attention.

“Something on my face?” she asked him once, hoping he'd take the hint. 

“No, no!” Aang replied quickly. “You just look really pretty, tonight.” 

“Yeesh,” Toph commented. “You two are as nauseating as ever. Give it a rest, Twinkle Toes.” Katara felt her face heat up at Aang’s compliment. She folded her hands over her stomach willing the anxious knot there to loosen. Was it too early to excuse herself, she wondered. After all, she hadn't had much sleep in the last couple of days.

“I can't help it Toph,” Aang sighed adoringly. Katara looked down at her plate. As a peace offering, she had gotten the same vegetarian dish that Aang had gotten. It was barely touched. Katara set her hashi across her plate and pushed it away slightly. It was getting late, and the others would probably want to go to bed soon, too.

“There's dragon’s beard for dessert,” Zuko told his friends. He shot Katara and her plate a questioning look. “If everyone is ready?”

“Absolutely!” Sokka agreed around a mouth full of roasted bush boar. 

“I'd like some,” Suki said. she shook her head fondly at her husband. Toph and Aang agreed with alacrity, and Zuko asked for the table to be cleared for dessert.

“Um…” Aang cleared his throat once the table was clean. “Before we have dessert, I wanted to say something.” His friends turned to him expectantly. His cheeks warmed to a light pink and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah...so... it's great to be together with you guys again. I know we just saw each other last month, but I feel like we've missed so many things in each other's lives. It makes me sad that we can't always be together to celebrate when something amazing happens. Which is why I'm really happy we can be together now.”

Katara's stomach churned uncomfortably, the way it did when Appa hit a rough patch of air. Aang couldn't possibly be doing what she suspected. Not after everything that had happened that day. Not in front of everyone. Aang turned to Katara with a smile. Katara's eyes flickered over to Sokka briefly, but it was enough.

“Yeah, buddy,” he said, almost leaping from his seat. “We've missed you, too. We need to make sure we’re getting together at least a couple of times a year. What do you guys think? Winter vacation at Ember Island and summer break in the South?”

“Well, that sounds great, Sokka,” Aang said a bit tersely. “But I actually wasn't finished.” 

“Really, Aang,” Toph chimed in. “No one feels like sitting through a long speech tonight.” Zuko and Suki looked around the table in confusion. Katara kept her eyes on her hands in her lap. 

“It's fine,” Suki assured Aang. She eyed Sokka questioningly. His eyes were bulging and swirling as if he were choking. 

“Are you okay?” Zuko asked him. Sokka clutched the back of his head and laughed far too loud.

“I'm fine, buddy,” he almost yelled. “Say, where’s that dragon’s beard? I haven’t had that in ages.” Suki nudged him with her elbow.

“You're being rude,” she whispered. “What's gotten into you?”

“I'll explain later,” he told her from the side of his mouth. Suki shook her head.

“Finish what you were saying, Aang,” she said. Sokka shot his sister an apologetic glance. Aang spoke up before he could be interrupted again.

“I’m really glad that all of my friends-” he looked at Katara and amended “-all of _our_ friends are here for this.” Suki's eyes widened as Aang reached into his pocket. 

“I had wanted to do this earlier,” Aang told Katara archly. “But...well, I think now is better.” He pulled a necklace from his pocket- a gold pendant on a blue velvet choker- and held it out to Katara. 

Katara's tongue locked at the juncture of her jaws. For a moment she couldn't even breathe. She looked from Aang to his outstretched hand and back. She couldn't look at her friends. 

_ Please, please let this just be a gift _ , she begged silently.

“Katara,” Aang started with a shyness that didn't touch the expectant gleam in his eye. “Will you marry me?”

“Woah…” Toph whispered.

He had done it. 

Katara felt her friends' eyes on her like a physical weight. If she looked at them, she was sure she would see the same expectation in their faces. She would say yes, of course. How could she not? She and Aang had been together since the end of the war. She was his  _ forever girl _ , after all. It wasn't as if Katara hadn't seen this coming for a while now. This was the natural progression of their relationship. Right?

Katara's jaw loosened enough for her to speak after a long moment. 

“...can we talk about this?” she asked Aang quietly. “Alone?” Aang's smile slipped, his excitement giving way to confusion. 

“Well... sure,” he agreed. “I-I guess. But everyone is waiting for an answer-”

“No!” Zuko nearly knocked his chair over when he stood. “No, honestly. It's fine. We can have our dessert on the verandah. Come on, you guys.” Zuko hurriedly ushered his all too willing friends through the double doors leading to the garden and shut them behind him. Katara and Aang were alone.

“I-I don't understand,” Aang started. “I thought you'd be happy about this. Aren't you happy?” A thousand replies went through Katara's head- most of them were some variation of annoyance that he had put her on the spot.

“I-” Katara halted and then tried again. “I'm... surprised.” That wasn't quite true, although she was caught off guard by his timing. 

“You are?” Aang asked. He hit his forehead with the heel of his palm. “It wasn't romantic enough, right?”

“That's not it.”  _ Not it exactly. _ Katara bit her lip. “I mean, I just wish you had talked to me before…” She trailed off.

“Well, I _ wanted _ to ask you this morning,” Aang said. As if that explained everything. As if he was working with a deadline and Katara was throwing him off schedule. She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Aang, we have  _ never _ discussed marriage,” she said. “We should have talked about this sooner.”

“I wanted to!” Aang insisted. He held up the betrothal necklace to show her. The pendant was a mix of stylized swirls representing the wind. “I tried to so many times. I had this made months ago. I could just never find the right time to ask you.” 

“That's not what I meant.” Katara shook her head vehemently. “We should have talked about marriage before...before you got this. This isn't something you just do on a whim.” 

“This isn't a whim!” Aang reached out for Katara's hands and searched her eyes desperately. “I've known I wanted to marry you since I woke up and you were there. Don't you want to marry  _ me _ ?” Katara dropped her gaze to his hands clutching hers 

“... I don't know,” she told him. Aang froze for a moment. Then suddenly his hands were gone. He jumped up and paced the floor.

“You _don't_ _know_?” He laughed bitterly. “We've been together for almost five years, and you _don't know_ if you want to marry me?” Katara winced, but she forced herself to look up.

“I don't know,” she repeated more firmly. Aang stopped pacing abruptly. 

“Why not?” His voice was thick with tears. “Don't you love me anymore?”

“I…” Katara's tongue froze again. That was too complicated to answer. Her hesitation was enough of a response for him, though. Aang's face hardened against the tears. Without another word, he turned and fled the dining room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you love it, leave a comment and tell your friends! And same deal as the first chapter. If you make me laugh, the next chapter will be dedicated to you.
> 
> Nothing but love for ya.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Chapter 3_ **

Sokka gave his sister an hour before he came looking for her. He poked his head in as he knocked on her door. That would have annoyed Katara if her insides hadn't been frozen solid. She shot him a half-hearted glare and turned her brooding gaze back to the view outside of her window.

“So~o,” Sokka drawled as he sat down at Katara's dressing table. “That was a thing, huh?” Katara snorted derisively.

“How's that for an understatement?” she mumbled. 

“Are you okay?” Katara turned to see Sokka watching her with concern.

And why shouldn't he _,_ Katara thought as she began to pace. Hadn't she just blown up her whole life? She took a deep shaky breath and slid down the wall to the floor. Sokka left his seat and sat next to her.

“What happened?” Sokka asked quietly. “We all thought you and Aang were so happy.” Katara could barely get her voice around the lump in her throat.

“I don't know.” She shrugged, letting the tears slide down her cheeks unimpeded. Sokka went to grab the first bit of cloth he could- a silk robe- and gave it to Katara. She dabbed at her face with it.

“ _Have_ you been happy?” he asked her. Katara started crying harder. Sokka wrapped an arm around her and let her cry on his shoulder. When she was done, she stayed there. She had missed her brother terribly while he was in Kyoshi.

“Did I just make a huge mistake?” Katara asked at last. Sokka glanced down at the top of her head and wondered if he shouldn't have sent Suki instead.

“No,” he said firmly. “I mean, it sucks that this happened, but the biggest mistake you could ever make is forcing yourself to go through with marrying him if you really don't want to.” Katara hummed noncommittally. Sokka stared at her as she sat up. “If you _do_ want to marry him, though, you should probably tell him that. Even if it's just that you don't want to get married _right now._ Either way, I completely support your decision.”

“Thanks, Sokka.” Katara shot him a weak smile. Then she buried her face in her hands and groaned. “Everyone must hate me right now.”

“ _What_?” Sokka drew back in surprise. “No one hates you! Why would you say that?” 

“I just broke Aang's heart,” she said. “I know _you're_ not going to hold that against me, but everyone else…”. 

“Woahwoahwoah!” Sokka held his hands up, shaking his head. “Slow down, kid. First of all- and I cannot stress this enough- it's _your_ life. Who cares what anyone else thinks about this? You have to make the right choice for _you_ here. Second no one is mad at you. We're _worried_ about you.”

“What?” Katara wiped the tears away. “ _Me_?” 

“Yes, _you_." Sokka huffed. "That whole time we were in the garden, we were worried about how you were handling it. Toph and I tried to stop him, you know.” 

“Yeah. I noticed.” Katara nodded. 

“I honestly don't know what he was thinking.” Sokka stretched his arms over his head and brought his hands together behind his head. “He totally put you on the spot. Everyone knows you hate being put on the spot like that. That wasn't fair to either of you.”

“We hadn't even discussed it,” Katara told him. She felt the weight of her guilt and sadness harden into anger. She would _not_ take all of the blame for this. Aang certainly had his share. “He just assumed I would say yes! And he gave me a _necklace_! He didn’t even consider that I don’t want to stop wearing Mom’s necklace. He didn’t even ask me how proposals work in the South! ” Sokka shook his head.

“That's our Aang, alright,” he mumbled. He sighed, and dropping his hands to his side he looked at Katara. “So, what do you think?”

“I don't know…” Katara felt as if she had said those words a thousand times that evening. Sokka regarded her for a long moment.

“I think you do,” Sokka told her. “I think you're just worried about too many other people to admit it.” 

“Really?” Katara snapped angrily. “What do I think, then?” Sokka arched an eyebrow at her.

“How should _I_ know?” He shrugged. “All I can say is that I have known you your entire life and one thing you have never been is indecisive.” Katara glared at Sokka. She wanted to kick him out, but she also didn't want to be alone.

“Okay,” Sokka said after a moment. “Let's try this. Tell me what you're unsure about.” Katara had stopped crying by this point. She brushed away the tears that hadn't dried and wiped her hands on her pants.

“I don't-” she stopped herself from finishing and thought. At last, the beginnings of an explanation came to her. “Lately, I don't feel like Aang hears me. I don’t know if it's new, or if he’s never heard me and I was just ignoring it, or...” Katara waved a hand carelessly.

“What do you mean?” Sokka leaned towards Katara, with his fist tucked under his chin. He looked so much like their father just then, Katara almost burst into fresh tears. 

“Well,” Katara swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, “just this morning he tried to get me to go on a sunrise picnic. _After_ I had already told him I didn't want to go that early.”

“ _Sunrise_?” Sokka gaped incredulously. “What's wrong with that kid? It’s a testament to your patience that he’s still alive. I’d’ve clobbered him.” Katara let out a teary, slightly strangled laugh. 

“I wasn’t awake enough to think of that,” she joked. “But the point was he asked me yesterday to go with him, and I told him I would go, just not at sunrise. We argued about it, and I thought he listened to me. But then this morning, here he comes to get me up a couple of hours after I had gone to sleep.” Sokka winced. His sister was a night owlkeet, especially around a full moon. The last one had been just two nights earlier. Aang was aware of that, too. All of their friends were. 

“Well, that was a jerk move,” Sokka said. His mouth had twisted into a disapproving frown. Katara sighed and let her head roll back. 

“I mean, I get it,” she told him. “He was excited. I...this whole proposal thing...it wasn’t a surprise.” Sokka blinked at his sister’s confession.

“No?” he asked. “Then why didn’t _you_ bring up the marriage talk?” Katara shrugged. 

“I guess I assumed I’d say yes, too,” she admitted. “And I guess I was hoping he’d get my input first. It’s stupid, I know, but I think I was trying to...test him.” Sokka furrowed his brows. 

“Test him?” he repeated. “Test him how?” 

“To see if he still wanted to know what I thought.” Katara sighed again. “After all, this would change _both_ of our lives. Not just his. I wanted to see if he would consider that before he asked me.” Sokka opened his mouth to say something, but he seemed to think better of it. Katara was glad. She didn’t want his judgement, and it was too late for friendly advice.

“Those are valid reasons not to rush into marrying him,” Sokka said instead. “Is there any reason why you _would_ marry him?” 

“Well, sure,” Katara said. “He loves me so much. And...I mean, we've been together for so long. Marriage makes perfect sense. And he wants to have kids. Both of us do, of course. It’s just… I mean the Air Acolytes are great, but Aang really wants more airbenders to teach…”

“Okay,” Sokka said with a chuckle. “Those are terrible reasons to get married.”

“Why?” Katara demanded. 

“Well, for one thing, you haven't told me why _you_ would marry _him_. Five years and Aang's biological clock aren't good enough reasons for you to start a family with him.”

“That's not what I meant,” Katara insisted. “It's just that Aang is really excited to bring more airbenders into the world-”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Sokka interrupted. He shook his head incredulously at his sister. “ Look, what the Fire Nation did to the Air Nomads is tragic, but what are you going to do? Give birth to a whole nation?” Katara flinched at that.

“Of course not,” she said, sounding too uncertain for either of their comfort. It was another thing she and Aang had never talked about. Sokka was quiet for a long moment. His gaze drifted from his sister to the large bay windows on the opposite side of the room. 

“You know,” he said after a while. “When Dad asked me why I wanted to marry Suki, it took me a while to answer him. I mean, obviously I love her, but Dad said that just because we love each other, it doesn't mean that we were ready to be married. Marriage is a partnership, and I realized that’s what Suki and I have. I love her, yeah, but I also trust her. And she trusts me, too.” He turned back to Katara with a sad, fond gleam in his eye. “That's what I want for you, too.”

Katara couldn't hold his gaze anymore. She drew her legs up to her chin and hid her face in her knees. Sokka rubbed her back soothingly.

“You are such a caregiver,” Sokka told her. “You did an incredible job raising me- heck you did a great job with Toph and Aang, too. But, you deserve someone who wants to _share_ the load with you.”

“And you don't think that's Aang?”Katara asked. She turned her head so she could see Sokka's face. 

“Do _you_ think that's Aang?” he countered. Now Katara sat up and looked Sokka dead in his eye.

“I'm serious,” she said. “I want to know what you think. Honestly.” Sokka cast her a long, dubious glance.

“That's dangerous territory,” he told her. “I have a strict policy of not meddling in your love life.”

“Please, Sokka,” Katara insisted. “I really want to know what you think.” Sokka debated his reply for a moment, and then sighed.

“Okay, honestly I don't understand what you see in Aang.” Katara's eyes widened in surprise. Sokka hurried to add, “Don't get me wrong. Aang is my friend, and I love him, but watching you two together these past few years has been... weird.” 

“Weird?” Katara repeated. Sokka nodded.

"Like I said, you practically raised him. You do so much for him, but I’ve never seen him reciprocate, you know?”

“You think he’s taking advantage of me?” Katara asked. 

“Not on purpose,” Sokka said quickly. “I don’t think he realizes he does it, but yeah. Your relationship is really lopsided. And I hate the way you sort of fade into his shadow.” 

"I don't fade," Katara insisted. She winced at the lie. Sokka raised his eyebrow at her. 

"My honest opinion is that I don't think you're good for one another." 

"You _just_ said-"

"I said you did a great job taking care of him. You did. You still _are._ But is that the kind of marriage you want?" Sokka nudged his sister and shot her a sardonic smirk. "I know Suki and I got married young, but you don't have to beat our record. This could be a good thing for you. You can get out there and explore the world. You can find out who you are and what makes you happy without having to worry about Aang's feelings." 

Katara absently chewed on her knuckle as she turned over what Sokka had said. She tried to picture her life without Aang in it. A life where she wasn't attached to him. She couldn’t just then. Aang had been a constant in her life for so long, after all. Before that, she had Sokka and the village. Katara had always considered herself independent, and no one could deny that she had a strong will of her own. But she had never been _just_ Katara. She had never considered that an option before, and now that she was, the thrill of it made the tiniest hole through her sadness. 

Katara looked up to find Sokka watching her with a kind smile. He reached out and ruffled her hair- something he hadn’t done since they were small children. Katara let out a huff that might have been a laugh and pushed him away.

“Whatever you decide,” he told her, “I am completely and totally on your side, alright?” There was a lump in Katara’s throat that made it hard to breath, but she gulped a few times and hugged her brother tightly. 

“Thanks, Sokka.” 

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Katara wasn’t sure how long she had stood outside Aang’s door. It felt like it shouldn’t have been long, but for all she knew it had been hours. All the way from her room she had debated with herself whether she should have waited until morning, but she was no closer to resolving that argument than when she had gotten out of bed. Sokka had left her a while ago, and everyone must be in bed, but Katara didn’t think Aang would have been any more able to sleep than she was. 

But now she was here, at his door, her hand curled into a fist at her side, and she still didn’t know what to do. If the moon had been full, Katara could have felt for Aang's heartbeat to see if he was awake. After a moment Katara sighed and tapped lightly on the door and waited. Some endless seconds went by, and just as Katara was debating on whether or not to try again, the door opened slowly. Aang stood in the doorway, puffy eyed and pale in the dim light. Katara drew back in surprise, but she took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders.

"Hey, Aang," she said. "Can we talk?" Aang's eyes darted down towards her neck, then back up.

"Sure," he said after a moment. He stood aside to let her in.

"Actually," Katara moved back into the hall, "I was thinking we could go down to the library." Aang frowned at that suggestion, hesitated, and then nodded. 

"Okay." 

The library was on the other side of the palace in the visitor's wing. During the day it was a common space frequented by guests, servants and the royal family at any given time during the day. At night, it was usually empty, and aside from Zuko's friends, who slept in the family quarters, there were no guests sleeping in the palace. Katara thought that it would be the least obtrusive place to have this talk. 

"I can have someone bring us up some tea and snacks," Katara offered.

"I wouldn't want to wake anyone," Aang replied. 

"Iroh says there's a night shift in the kitchen for the guards or in case someone wants a midnight snack." Katara brought a lock of her hair forward and twirled the end of it around her finger nervously. "It wouldn't be a problem."

"No thanks. I'm not really hungry." Aang sounded tense and nervous. It reminded Katara of the day they told him that everyone expected him to kill Ozai. Her gut clenched with guilt. She had to finish this, though.

As Katara hoped, the library was empty. It was also dark, but Aang didn't offer to light the sconces, and Katara didn't ask him. There was enough light coming through the windows from the waning moon, anyway. Katara looked up at it, wondering if Yue could see her.

"Are you ready to talk?" Aang asked, startling Katara out of her thoughts. As it turned out, no, she wasn't ready to talk. But she had to. She had, after all, dragged Aang from his room at this ridiculous hour. 

_Payback,_ Katara thought with a hysterical hiccupy laugh. 

"Katara?" Aang took a step towards her, his brow creased with worry. Katara moved back a step, keeping the space between them.

"I can't marry you," she blurted out. Aang froze midstep. 

"I- you... what…?" He gaped at her. His mouth opened and closed, tracing words, but not actually saying anything. Katara looked down at the floor and let him turn her words over until he understood what she just said. He had to let them sink in. Katara knew she couldn’t rush this part. 

But, oh! She wished she could. Katara wished she could skip this, that it could be the next morning, or the next week or year. Sometime in the future where they could be okay again and maybe Aang would be able to understand why she was doing this now. 

"Why?" Aang found his voice again and pulled Katara back into the moment. It was weak and choked with tears, but Katara heard him. She had spent the hours alone in her room trying to think of what to say to Aang. She had come up with so many lovely and delicate ways to tell him how she felt, but they all vanished from her mind when she turned to look into Aang's eyes. 

_I should have written it all down,_ Katara thought, _I should have written it down and slipped it under his door._

"I-" she began hesitantly. "I don't think we should get married. We're not good together, and I have never had a chance to live my own life, and... and…" It was all wrong! This wasn’t how Katara wanted this to go at all. 

“I don’t understand…”Aang shook his head. He was too confused to be hurt. That would come soon enough though. “You want to...what? Break up?” 

“I can’t marry you,” Katara told him. Oh why, she wondered, hadn’t she just waited until morning?

  
“Why?” Aang asked again. He held his hands out to her pleadingly. “Just tell me why? I thought we were good. I thought you loved me!” 

  
  


“I _do_ love you,” Katara cried. “I just…” How had she put it before while she was alone? 

“Just what?”

“This isn’t right,” she said. “This - _us_ \- it hasn’t been right. Not in a long time. And I don't want to wake up twenty years from now regretting...” 

“I don’t understand.” Aang truly looked bewildered. Had he really never seen how she had been pulling away, Katara wondered. She took a deep breath and tried to put her reasons into words. 

“I just feel like you’re trying to check off a list,” Katara explained. “Like you have this plan for how you want your life to go, only you forgot to ask about _my_ list.”

“But you want the same thing as me, right?” Aang’s face twisted and scrunched as he tried to make sense of what Katara was saying. She couldn’t blame him. She barely understood herself. 

“Aang…” 

  
“Wait,” he cut her off. “You want to get married and have kids, too, right?” Katara threw her hands up to her sides. 

“Yes,” she said. “Maybe. I mean, some day, but… not _now_.” 

“But why wait?” Aang pressed. “I love you, Katara! And if you love me, then what’s the problem?” 

“The problem is I haven’t done anything with my life!” Katara tugged at the end of her hair. “I’m only nineteen! I’m not ready to throw myself into a family!” 

**“** Well, when _will_ you be ready?” Aang was getting insistent. Impatient. It was one of the things Katara was beginning to realize she liked least about him. 

“I don’t know!” Katara snapped. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. “I don’t know when I’ll be ready, but I know I’m not ready now.” 

“Can’t you give me a time frame?” Aang was pleading now. Katara was surprised he wasn’t on his knees. 

“It doesn’t work like that, Aang.” Katara sighed and thought of her bed longingly. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep that night, but right then, crying alone in her room seemed worlds better than this conversation. 

“This isn’t fair,” Aang insisted. “You can’t just keep hanging, waiting on you.” 

“I’m not! I’m not keeping you hanging! You’re free to go your own way. Move on," Katara almost begged. "Fall for someone else!”

“There _is_ no one else!” Aang’s words echoed around the empty library and thudded against Katara. Her rib cage reverberated with them. Tears streamed down Aang’s face, getting caught in the beginnings of what Aang had long ago told her he hoped would be an impressive beard.

“There is someone else,” Katara promised him. “There are plenty of someones. I am _not_ the only girl in the world.” Aang shook his head, his shoulders shaking with sobs.

“Do you know how long I’ve dreamed of having kids?” he asked. “With you! Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to raise more airbenders?” Katara couldn’t help the snort that escaped her. 

“Yeah,” she laughed humorlessly. “Five years.” Aang’s face flushed bright enough to be seen in the dim light of the moon. Katara regretted that comment immediately. “I’m sorry, Aang. I know how much the Air Nomads mean to you. I really do.”

“Then why-”

“What if none of our kids are airbenders?” Katara asked. It was possible. After all, Katara was the first waterbender in her family for at least two generations. Maybe none of their kids would be any sort of bender.

“I wouldn't care,” Aang said firmly. “Besides, we can keep trying until one is.” Keep trying. As if it would be so easy. Katara had spent some time with Yugoda in the North, and had helped with many more deliveries since baby Hope those years earlier. The idea of _‘keep_ _trying’_ after what she had seen was laughable.

“Just how many kids do you think we would have?” Katara folded her arms over her chest. 

“I don’t know.” Aang shifted on his feet. “I always pictured having a lot of kids.” 

“Okay, what’s a lot of kids?” Katara pressed. Aang shrugged, and she knew that he had never thought to put a number to it. 

“When I was growing up there were lots of kids at the air temples.” It always came back to the Air Nomads. Usually Katara understood- even empathized, but now it just made her roll her eyes skyward and bite back a groan. 

“I’m not asking about that,” she said. “How many kids do _you_ want?” Aang shrugged again. 

“Maybe seven or eight,” he told her. Katara shook her head. 

“I don’t want more than three,” she said. 

“Three?” Aang gasped. “That’s-”

“Already a lot. And I don’t want to spend my entire life having babies and raising kids.” 

“But what if…” Aang’s voice trailed off, and there was a flash of guilt across his face. Katara knew what he meant to say, though. Her cheeks warmed with anger. Hadn’t he _just_ said that he would love his- _their_ kids whether they were air benders or not? 

“Three,” Katara repeated with her eyes narrowed. “And they would be half Water Tribe. The choice of becoming Acolytes would be completely up to them, whether they were air benders or not. And I’m _not_ becoming vegetarian. If you want them to not eat meat, then you’d have to start pitching in with the cooking.” Aang’s mouth fell open in shock.

“Are you _trying_ to push me away?” he asked. “Is that what this is? You don’t want to marry me, so you’re- what?- just being a…” Aang gestured wildly at Katara, unable to find the right description for her mood just then. 

“I’m _not_ trying to push you away!” Katara wondered if there was a word to describe the way _Aang_ was acting just then. 

“You’d like being a vegetarian if you tried it!” Aang insisted. It was such a jarring statement, that it took Katara a moment to register it.

“ _Tui and La!”_ she shouted. “This is _not_ about me being a vegetarian. You just asked me to marry you without even considering what it would mean for me. For both of us. You never even asked if I _wanted_ kids, never mind how many!” 

“What are you talking about?” Aang demanded. " You _do_ want kids."

“But you _never asked_!” Desperation to make Aang understand her made Katara yell even louder. She was sure half the palace could hear them, despite the isolation of the library. They should have had this conversation sooner, when they could both discuss it calmly. Katara acknowledged her mistake in not bringing it up when there was a way it could end happily, or at least with less damage. Now it was too late. And she couldn’t stop now even if she wanted to. 

“You don't ask me about my feelings in this relationship at all,” she said. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes. Aang saw them and stepped toward her, arms open to embrace her. Katara took a step back.

“I thought you were happy,” he whispered. He searched her face desperately. “Haven’t you been happy?” 

“I haven’t,” Katara admitted. “I thought I was, but honestly, I don’t feel like I have a voice in this relationship anymore. I don’t know if I ever did.”

The room fell silent. It was as if Katara had dropped a bomb and now they were standing in the aftermath. Aang couldn’t meet Katara’s eye, but she found she couldn’t look away. She needed his reaction. She needed to know that he heard her and understood. There was no way forward for them unless he did. She bit her lip nervously and tried to quell the tide of guilt that was rising in her stomach. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Aang asked. Katara threw her hands up helplessly.   
  


“I don’t think I realized how I felt. Not until recently.” Now Katara lowered her gaze to the floor. “I still should have brought up these things with you. I really am sorry for that. But these last few years I let myself get so swallowed up in being _your_ girlfriend, and I forgot who _I_ was.” 

“What do you mean? You’re Katara. You always have been.” Aang's face was tight and pained, as if he had just been punched in the gut. Katara felt low. Oh! How she wished she had been honest with herself sooner. 

“No, I haven’t been me Aang,” she told him. “I’ve been trying to be who _you_ want me to be. And it’s not your fault. I should have said something sooner.” 

“Why _didn’t_ you say something before?” Aang asked. He shifted on his feet, and he had one hand shoved into his pocket clenched, Katara was sure, around the necklace. Why hadn’t she said something before? What had kept her mouth shut for so long? 

“Because I would have had to end this,” she said at last. “And I didn’t want to hurt you.” Aang’s eyes widened and he reeled back as if he had been struck. 

“End…?” he repeated uncomprehendingly. “End what? _Us_?” Katara nodded. She didn’t trust her voice just then. She shouldn’t have said that. She should have picked better words- kinder words. But she had told the truth. Hadn’t her Gran Gran said that a painful truth was better than a sweet lie? Aang had never been introduced to that bit of her grandmother’s wisdom, though. 

“Why?” The question came strangled and gasping from Aang after a long silence. Katara spread her hands open helplessly. 

“Why do you want to marry me?” she countered. 

“Because I love you!” Aang almost shouted. “Is that what the problem is? You don’t think I love you?” 

“ _What_ do you love about me, Aang?” 

“Everything!” Aang was confused, Katara could see it in his face. She could end this here, she thought. She could tell him it was just nerves and she didn’t mean anything she had said and she would marry him gladly. 

“That’s not enough,” she said out loud. Aang was stunned. “What do you even know about me, Aang? After five years, I’m almost an expert on you. On the Air Nomads. I know how you like your eggs and Monk Gyatso’s opinions on everything from the best time of day to meditate to the proper way to make a fruit tart. But you don’t even know enough about me and my culture to know that the Southern Tribe doesn’t do betrothal necklaces.”

“What do you mean?” Aang was once again grasping for the easiest thing to digest. “Your mother’s necklace-”

“It was given to her by Gran Gran,” Katara said. “It’s a Northern Tribe tradition. It’s not ours.”

“I don’t know what the Southern Tribe does!” 

“ _You never asked me_!” They were both shouting again. Someone must be able to hear them. They must! And maybe they would come and this conversation would be forced to end. But no one came. There would be no convenient outs. And everything Katara had been ignoring throughout her whole relationship with Aang would just have to keep pouring out of her like pus from an infected wound. 

Aang stood across from Katara, just a few feet away, but Katara had never felt further from him. It was as if the floor had become a chasm, and even Aang with his glider couldn't cross it. Katara worried that neither of them would be able to cross it again. 

“What does your tribe do?” Aang’s voice sounded as wounded as he looked. He sounded like a child again. Katara blinked against the tears and took a deep breath. 

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. 

“Yes it does!” Aang insisted. “If I know, I can do it right next time. I can fix this, Katara! I _swear_ I can. I’ll learn about the Southern Tribe, like you learned about the Air Nomads. I’m sorry that I haven't tried before, but I can do better! I swear!” 

“No, Aang.” Katara tried to be as firm as possible around her tears. “It’s not that simple. This isn’t going to work, and the best thing we can do for both of us is to let it end here.” 

“How can it be the best thing if it hurts us this badly?” Aang pleaded. 

“Because we’re holding each other back,” Katara told him. Aang tried to cross the chasm and reached for Katara’s hand, but she pulled away.

“You’re _not_ holding me back!” he insisted. 

“You’re holding _me_ back!” Katara winced and looked away from Aang. She couldn’t take pain on his face anymore. “This relationship is holding me back. Aang, I need to figure out who I am. I spent most of my life trying to survive a war. And then once it ended, I spent all my time trying to be who I thought _you_ needed me to be. I need to figure out who I am by myself.” Aang stared at her with his brows furrowed. 

“You...you need to figure things out?” His expression changed as he tried to work through her meaning. “So you need to be alone?” 

“Yes.” Katara nodded vehemently. “I really do. I hope you understand, but I can’t be with you.” 

“I understand.” Aang took a step back. “I’ll give you your space.” Katara let out a sigh of relief. The worst part was over. 

“Are you okay?” she asked. Aang smiled sadly and nodded. 

“I will be,” he said. “And maybe someday…” His voice trailed off ruefully. Katara returned his smile somewhat shakily. 

“Whatever happens,” she told him, “I will _always_ be your friend. I’ll still be there when you need me.”

“Um…” Aang raised his arms hesitantly. “Is it okay if we hug?” Katara hesitated - she felt raw and open and the thought of being touched was almost painful- but she allowed Aang to pull her into an embrace. For old times’ sake, she told herself as she wrapped her arms around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I need to slow down the posting, or eventually I'm going to catch up to the parts I haven't written yet...Oh well. We'll see how long I can stay this regular. Fingers crossed I finish this story before I get that far! I hope this makes quarantine slightly more bearable. Please review and share!


	4. Chapter 4

**_Chapter 4_ **

“Hey, Katara.” Katara brought her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun. Zuko stood over her and moved so he was blocking the light . 

“Thanks,” Katara said, with a weak smile. 

“How are you doing?” Zuko asked. Katara sighed. She knew she should have expected this -soon all of her friends would come to express their concern and support- but it didn’t make it any easier. 

“I’m alright,” she said. She couldn’t see his face, but the way he tilted his head told her he was unconvinced. With another sigh, Katara sat up and scooted over. Zuko took the patch of grass beside her and tossed a pebble into the pond. 

“I’ll be okay,” Katara told him. “I mean, I didn’t sleep last night, and I’m exhausted, but… I did what I had to do.” 

“Oh?” Zuko’s brow twitched upwards. 

“It hurts,"Katara admitted. "I just... I don't know. It feels bad, but not as bad as I thought it would. I feel free, you know? Like I can go and only have to worry about me for a while." Katara turned to Zuko and threw a hand out carelessly. "Does that make any sense?" Zuko hummed thoughtfully.

“You know,” he started hesitantly. “When Mai and I broke up, it was hard at first. But it was the right choice. We probably should have broken up sooner, if I’m honest. I don't know if I felt exactly what you feel, but I think I get it. ” Katara pulled her knees to her chest and watched a family of turtleducks playing on the other side of the pond. 

“Why didn’t you?” she asked. "Break up sooner, I mean." From the corner of her eye, she saw Zuko shrug.

“I think I was just comfortable,” he explained. “Mai and I didn’t work on so many levels, but at least she was...there.” Katara winced. Zuko didn’t mean that to make her feel guilty, she was sure, but she knew how difficult the very beginning of his reign was. She had heard about the assassination attempts and his letters were full of hints of lonliness. Iroh was around, of course, but Katara understood how it would be comforting for Zuko to have Mai. Even if she didn’t particularly like her friend’s ex very much.

“What changed?” Katara rested her head on her arms and turned to face Zuko. “Did  _ she  _ decide she wanted to get married, too?” Zuko let out a humorless laugh. 

“Not exactly,” he said. “My advisors were beginning to hint that it might be time to consider asking her to marry me, but Mai wasn’t putting any pressure on me." Zuko sighed. "No, I think the moment I realized there was no future for us was when I asked her about some policy thing. I don’t remember what it was, but I remember her answer.”

“What did she say?” Katara asked, leaning forward curiously. Zuko shrugged and tried to look nonchalant, but his mouth twisted ruefully. 

“You know Mai. Politics aren't really her thing. She said, ‘How should I know, Zuko? It’s  _ your _ job.'” Katara balked at that. That was the reason she never really warmed to Mai. Her aloofness very often leapt the border into rudeness.

“That’s…” Katara didn’t know how to finish, but she didn’t need to. 

“Yeah,” Zuko replied. “It was the last straw. I wasn’t even angry, though. Isn’t that weird?” 

“A little. I’m kind of offended  _ for _ you,” Katara admitted. “So you broke up with her then?” Zuko’s friends had never gotten many details about Zuko’s break up with Mai two years earlier. Just that it had happened and it was amicable. 

“No,” Zuko replied. “But it wasn’t long after that. It went pretty easy. I think Mai was ready for us to be over, too.” Katara’s mouth twitched down into a frown. 

“I’m glad you didn’t stay with her,” she told him. Zuko eyes widened in confusion and surprise. Katara smiled and tried not blush. “I mean, you deserve to be with someone who wants to have those kinds of conversations with you. You deserve someone who wants to share that load with you.” A small smile graced Zuko’s face. 

“You deserve that, too,” Zuko said. Then reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. "I have something for you."

"What's this?" Katara asked as he handed the sheet to her. 

"It's about that favor you asked me for," Zuko explained. 

Katara read the short missive. Hama isn't at the prison anymore. She had escaped not long after she was arrested. Katara took in the news with a humorless laugh, and shook her head. 

"I shouldn't be surprised," she huffed. "Did she hurt anyone on her way out?" 

"No," Zuko said. "She…made one of the guards unlock her cell and walk her out. That was all."

"That's good at least" Katara sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "And no one knows where she is or how to find her, right?"

"Well, there is one person who could help…" It took Katara a moment to understand what Zuko was talking about, but only a moment. Despite herself Katara raised an eyebrow and smirked at her friend.

"It took Ozai almost destroying the world to get Jun to agree to help last time," she reminded Zuko. "What makes you think she'll agree to help me find Hama." 

"She likes to take interesting cases," Zuko said with a shrug. "I think this counts. It's worth a shot, at least." Katara considered it.

"Don't we need something of Hama's for her...mole thing to track?"

"That should be easy enough," Zuko said. "Hama's inn is still standing, and from what I've heard no one's touched it. She really freaked a lot of people out. The whole town thinks it's cursed."

"They might be right," Katara scoffed. She turned her gaze back to the turtleducks. One of the families was swimming in a single file, with a parent at either end and four ducklings between. It occurred to Katara that, had she accepted Aang's proposal, that could have been them in a few years. The thought caused a pit in her stomach, but not from regret. 

"I can send for Jun," Zuko offered, bringing Katara out of her thoughts. 

"What? Like now?" She happened at him. "The summit is about to start. I can't just leave."

"Whenever you want," Zuko told her. Katara nodded.

"After the summit," she said firmly.

"After the summit," Zuko agreed.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Aang was staring again.

Katara could feel his eyes boring into the side of her face as she explained trade relations between the Northern and Southern Water Tribes. When she broke down how the Fire Nation might add to and benefit from a new trade agreement with the two, Aang was the first to vocalize his support. When one of Zuko's advisors brought up concerns- reasonable concerns, Katara thought, if a bit condescendingly presented- Aang spoke up for her as if she had been challenged to an Agni Kai. He had been doing it all week, and Katara had done her best to ignore him, hoping he would take a hint and focus, but it wasn’t working. All of their friends noticed his strange behavior, but worst of all the other delegates were beginning to notice. It was humiliating!

"I'll talk to him," Sokka told her after a particularly unproductive meeting.

"You don't have to do that," Katara replied. “I can handle myself.”

"It's not you I'm worried about," Sokka said raising an eyebrow. "The way Aang's acting is messing up the whole summit! It's starting to look like he's playing favorites, and that's not great for the Water Tribes." Sokka was right, of course. 

"Maybe I should have waited until after the summit to break up with him," Katara sighed. "I wasn't thinking about this when I turned him down." Sokka turned to face Katara with a fierce gleam in his eye.

"This isn't _ your _ fault," he said firmly. "Aang needs to learn how to leave his personal life at the door, just like everyone else." Katara threw her hands up helplessly.

"He's young-" she tried to defend her ex, but Sokka cut her off with a loud snort.

" _ You're _ young," he countered. "Stop making excuses for him. Aang has had all the responsibility of being the Avatar for almost five years!  _ Five _ ! The whole world needs him to start taking that role seriously."

"Sokka's right." The siblings jumped when Toph stepped around the corner. She ignored them and made her way to the tray of snacks that had been brought to Iroh's study. "Twinkletoes is so busy mooning over you that he hasn't spent any time with King Kuei, or the lord advisors from Ember Island. You know I just spent an hour listening to one of my dad's friends gossiping with the ambassador from Omashu about the Avatar's sordid love affair with the Water Tribe princess."

"What?" Katara yelped. " _ Sordid?"  _

" _ Princess? _ " Sokka scoffed. Toph waved them both off impatiently.

"You know what  _ didn't  _ get discussed?" She was scowling now. "The unrest between the Fire Nation colonists and the Earth Kingdom citizens in Lao Kai." Sokka and Katara fell silent at that. Toph popped a bit of bread and cheese into her mouth. 

"I’ll talk to him,” Sokka promised again.

Sokka didn’t get to speak to Aang until after the meetings had ended for the day. Katara made her escape as soon as Zuko had dismissed the meeting. Aang was about to take off after her, but Sokka caught the back of his shirt. 

“Oh! Hey, Sokka.” Aang tried to free himself from Sokka's grip, but his friend held firm with a pleasant smile on his face. 

"Hey, Aang! Got a minute?" 

"Well, actually I-"

"Great! Let's go get some food." Sokka wrapped an arm around Aang's shoulders and pulled him towards the room that had been set up as a mess hall. Aang had stopped resisting by the time they reached the buffet line. He filled the bowl Sokka handed him with rice and lentil bean stew, and tried not to make a face at Sokka's plate piled high with an assortment of meats and samosas. 

"Have you tried these?" Sokka asked, holding up one of the fried dough pockets. "They're delicious. And they don't even have meat!" 

"Yeah, they're...ah... pretty good," Aang agreed. He shifted on his feet shyly. "Does ...does Katara like samosas?” Sokka spun around and pointed to the far side of the crowded hall.

"I see a couple of seats in that corner," he said. He hurried across the room, almost running to claim the empty spots. Aang followed close behind, and the pair was rewarded with a relatively private spot.

"Good eye, Sokka."Aang tucked into his stew. He hadn't realized how hungry he had been during the meetings. Now his appetite returned with a vengeance. He almost matched Sokka's gusto. 

"So, it's been a while since we had a chance to check in with each other," Sokka preambled once he had finished half of his meal. "How are you doing?"

"Alright, I guess," Aang said with an unconvincing shrug. Sokka sighed and shook his head.

"You don't have to lie," Sokka said. "I know this week has been hard." Aang looked up sharply, his grey eyes flinty. 

"I'm fine," he said. "Katara said she needed space, I'm giving her space."

"Okay, but here's the thing," Sokka told him. "You kinda aren't."

"What do you mean?" Aang's brows furrowed. "I haven't spoken to her since…" Aang swallowed hard against a sudden lump in his throat. Sokka fought back a sigh. This was going to be harder than he thought.

"It's the way you act during the meetings," he explained. "People are starting to talk." 

"What's wrong with how I act?" Aang demanded. "I'm respectful. I make sure people listen when she speaks."

"You're playing favorites, and people see it." Sokka set his hashi down and looked Aang in his eye. "I know break-ups are hard, and this is fresh-"

"How would you know about break-ups?" Aang shouted. "You got _ your _ girl!"

Several people sitting nearby turned to see what was happening. Sokka chuckled nervously and waved at Zuko's High Chancellor. The old man eyed the two warily before turning back to his meal. Sokka glared at Aang across the table.

"First of all," he hissed, "you're an idiot. I love Suki, but I also loved Yue. Don't you  _ dare  _ act like you're the only one who has lost someone. Second, that is exactly what I mean. You need to learn how to set your personal business aside. You aren't doing yourself or anyone else any favors here. You're the Avatar. You have a responsibility to the whole world. That doesn't change because you got dumped." Aang's face went pale and red by turns. He cleared his throat a few times before he stood up, leaving the remains of his half eaten stew.

"Is that it?," Aang asked. His voice was tight and trembled angrily. Sokka didn't back away, but there was concern clear on his face.

"Aang, buddy, I just want to help you.  _ Both  _ of you."

"Sure," Aang snorted. "Well, thanks for the advice,  _ buddy _ . I have to go." He spun on his heel and stormed out of the mess hall.

"Aang!" Sokka called after him. Aang ignored him and left the room. Sokka groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "Terrific…"

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Katara would never be sure if Aang was actually looking for her, or if she just had phenomenally bad luck. She had just finished a morning sparring session with Toph when Aang literally dropped in from a second floor balcony.

"You here to challenge me next, Twinkletoes?" Toph greeted him. Aang spared her half a wave before turning to Katara.

"I was wondering if you had a minute to go over the proposal for the trade deal between Omashu and the Fire Nation." Katara took a deep breath and and tried to keep her voice even.

"I'm not scheduled to go to that meeting," she told him. "And I don't know enough about Omashu's end of things to be much help."

"But you're so smart," Aang insisted. "I'm sure if we looked at it together, you can help me see what I'm missing."

"I can't, Aang." Katara grabbed her things and started off the training field. "Why don't you talk to Toph about it. She's probably way more familiar with it than I am. Right Toph?"

"But-" 

"I'm going to get some breakfast." Katara wasn't quite running, but she had made it to the door of the palace already. Aang started after her, but Toph stopped him.

"You know, if you're _ trying _ to ruin your friendship with her, you're doing a great job," she drawled sarcastically. Aang winced as he turned to Toph.

"I was just-"

"Making this awkward for everyone." Toph picked up a towel and wiped the sweat from her brow. "Let her be."

"I just wanted to get her opinion," Aang said. "What's wrong with that?" 

"She said no and you kept pressuring her." Toph spoke as if she were talking to a very slow child. "Seriously, leave her alone." 

"I’m not doing anything.” Aang huffed, but Toph just shook her head. 

“You’re going to get yourself hurt, Aang,” she said as she headed back inside. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” 

Katara was having breakfast with Suki and Toph when Aang made his way to the cafeteria. He didn’t sit with them. Instead he allowed himself to be pulled in with a table of people he vaguely recognized as Bumi’s representatives. The king of Omashu had been unwell lately, but he had sent some of his more interesting advisors along with his new ambassador. Even they couldn’t keep Aang’s attention, though. He wasn’t sure what they were talking about. His eyes kept drifting back to Katara’s table with the hopes of maybe seeing her plate. 

“Avatar Aang if you keep twisting your neck like that, it’ll stick,” said one of the advisors- a salt and pepper haired woman whose name Aang couldn’t remember. 

“Or it’ll break,” her companion (whose name Aang had also forgotten) said with a shrug. He leaned forward and craned his neck in the direction of Aang’s gaze. “What’s so interesting over there?  _ Please  _ tell us! Fire Lord Zuko is a sweet kid, but he can’t throw a party to save his life.”

“Oh, it’s...nothing,” Aang said. Heat began crawling up his neck as the Bumi’s advisors exchanged knowing glances. 

“The Water Tribe princess,” the woman murmured. 

“Well, she’s not actually a- I mean that’s not what I-” Aang stuttered. 

“No, no, by all means,” the man said. “We’re not in a meeting right  _ now _ . Get it out of your system. Pine away.”

“Um...thanks.” Aang’s blush deepened. Bumi’s representatives had turned back to their own conversation, and Aang tried to focus on his meal. His eyes drifted back to Katara's table. She and the girls were gone. Aang turned in his seat wildly, scanning the hall. He caught a glimpse of Suki's back as she left the room, presumably following Katara and Toph out. 

There was no one around to be a buffer for Katara when Aang found her in the library a few hours later. She strongly suspected that was his goal. She set aside the book she was reading with a sigh. She would have to stay in her room between meetings if he kept this up. 

“Hey, Katara.” Aang tried to sound nonchalant. As if he had just happened to stumble upon her. As if he hadn’t been making up reasons to speak to her all day. As if he hadn’t asked random servants if they knew where she was. Katara sighed again. 

“Hey, Aang," she greeted him without enthusiasm.

“I was hoping we could have a chance to talk,” he said. 

“I was actually about to go to bed,” Katara told him. She tried to walk around him, but Aang moved into her path, cutting off her escape. 

_ Here we go, _ she thought wearily. 

“It won’t take long,” Aang promised. “Actually, it’s perfect that we’re in the library.” Katara raised her brow, curious in spite of herself where he was going with this. When she didn’t try to brush past him again, Aang grinned. 

“What do you want to ask?” Katara prompted. Some of her impatience bled into her voice, but she managed to refrain from tapping her foot.

“Well, I was just wondering if you knew of any good books on the Southern Water Tribe customs.”  _ That _ wasn’t what Katara was expecting. 

“What?” she balked. “What on earth for?” 

“We’re negotiating trade with the Southern Water Tribe tomorrow,” Aang explained. “I just wanted to brush up.”

“It’s just Sokka and I representing the tribe this time,” Katara reminded him. “You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I just,” Aang suddenly flushed and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I just, you know, thought it’d be a good opportunity to really learn more about the Southern Water Tribe’s culture.” Now Katara didn’t even try to hide her annoyance. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. 

“Aang,” she groaned. 

“And maybe we can discuss the main points tomorrow?” Aang suggested. “Maybe we could get breakfast together. I think they’re serving scrambled eggs.” He wasn’t being even slightly subtle. But then, subtlety had never really been one of Aang’s strengths.

“Stop,” Katara almost whispered. 

“Or, I’ll bet they can make omelettes,” Aang plowed on. 

“Stop!” This time Katara shouted the word. It had the desired result.

“Wha…?” Aang stumbled mid word and looked at Katara in confusion. 

"You  _ have _ to stop!" Katara said. "Aang, we broke up. You need to give me space. You need to give us  _ both  _ space."

"I know," Aang fidgeted anxiously. "I know we're taking a break. But I just wanted-"

"A break?" Katara repeated. "Aang, this isn't a break. We're over. For good."

"What?' The word came out in a painful gasp. Aang's face paled. 

"I'm sorry if I wasn't clear," Katara whispered. "When I said I couldn't be with you, I meant permanently." 

"You- you don't mean that." A short, confused laugh escaped from Aang's mouth. 

"I  _ do _ ," Katara said gravely. "I mean it. I don't want to be with you. You  _ have _ to let me go."

"I can't," Aang said tearfully. "I need you with me." He reached out for Katara, but she pulled back. She kept her face carefully blank. There could be no mistake now. There could be nothing in her to give him any hope. 

“No, you don't,” she said. “You don’t  _ need _ me. And the sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be.”

“Katara, I just-” 

“No, Aang.” Katara shook her head. “It’s over. I don’t want to be in this relationship anymore. Stop trying to force it.” 

“But-but,” Aang sputtered. “You're my forever girl. You’re my destiny. “

“No,” Katara sighed. “I’m not. I have to go.” This time Aang didn’t try to stop her as she left the library. Katara didn’t look back, either. Still, she could imagine the hurt expression on his face, and she thought it would haunt her for the rest of her life. 

.*.*.*.*.*.

"You can't just leave, Aang!" Zuko moved to block the door, as if Aang were threatening to bolt right then. "You're the Avatar. If you leave, everyone will think something's wrong!"

"I'm sick of my life coming second to politics!" Aang shouted back. "I had to give up everything to be the Avatar, and I can't even get a few days to…" Aang let out a gasping sob. No one moved to comfort him, which was fine. The only person he wanted comfort from wasn't there.

"You're not the only one who has had to make personal sacrifices for the good of the world." Sokka's voice was as cold and hard as the ice he grew up in. "Everyone here at this summit- everyone in this room- has had to give up something for the good of the world. To restore balance. King Kuei's mother is on her deathbed. Li Wei, the ambassador from Omashu, just gave birth three months ago. You aren't the only one here going through something. We  _ need  _ you here. We need you to be the example."

"I  _ never  _ asked to be anyone's example," Aang said sullenly. "I never asked to be there Avatar "

"And _ I  _ never asked to be Fire Lord," Zuko said. "Destiny _ chose _ you, although frankly, I don't know why."

"Excuse me?" Aang nearly hissed the words as he rounded on his friend. Zuko stood tall with his arms folded across his chest.

"Every time something doesn't go your way, you run," he said. "It was understandable when you were twelve, but you're too old now to be this selfish."

" _ Selfish _ ?" Aang repeated. "I'm in pain! And  _ you're _ supposed to be my friends! Katara just broke my heart. She dumped me right in the middle of the summit, but  _ I'm _ selfish?"

"It's not like you gave her a choice," Sokka reminded him. "We  _ all  _ told you to leave her alone. She said no to marrying you. You should have left it at that."

"I love her!" Aang insisted.

"Then act like it!" Sokka's voice echoed through Zuko's office. He jabbed his finger into Aang's chest. "You say you love Katara, but you don't even respect her enough to let her do what she came to do! Because of you, my sister is being gossiped about as if she's some flighty twit instead of a representative of the three Water Tribes! She has to deal with trying to get people to take her seriously on top of dealing with the fall out of your break up. If you love her, why would you put her through that?"

Aang went sullenly quiet. He sat at the desk with his head cradled in his hands. 

"I can't," he said after a moment. "I can't face her. I can't go to these meetings and sit across from her and pretend nothing's wrong. It's not- it's not fair to ask me to." Sokka exchanged glances with Zuko over Aang's head. Sokka was certain the Fire Lord wanted to shake Aang almost as badly as he did. 

It wasn't fair, Aang had said. When had life  _ ever  _ been fair to any of them? Had life been fair when the world had fallen into chaos because Aang wanted to run from responsibilities he wasn't ready for yet? Was it fair that Sokka and Katara had lost their mother and most of their heritage to a war that had begun before their grandparents had been born? Was it fair that Zuko had to salvage the soul of his country from over a century of propaganda and prejudice?

"You need to grow up," Zuko said at last. "You can't keep expecting us to fight with you to do your job every time you don't feel like it. It's exhausting." Aang leapt to his feet and fixed his friends with a scathing glare. 

"I'm sorry I've been such a burden to you," he spat. He crossed the room to the door. "I'll ignore my heartbreak so I can sit and listen to people work out problems they  _ should _ be dealing with themselves."

"That's all we're asking,"Sokka called after him, unmoved by his friend's attitude. 

That the talk hadn’t helped much was almost immediately clear. Aang had stopped overtly favoring Katara when she spoke. In fact he didn’t say much of anything. He sat next to Zuko with his arms folded sullenly. He didn’t speak unless spoken to, and then only in monosyllabic grunts. The global representatives were mystified. Aang’s friends were furious. Katara’s face flushed deeply every time Aang rudely answered any question asked of him directly. 

The others did their best to cover for him. Fortunately, most of the conversation was related to the Southern Water Tribe so, Katara and Sokka were able to supply much of the information needed. Where they couldn’t cover for Aang, Zuko and Toph stepped in. So the day’s proceeding progressed. When they were finally freed for dinner, Aang fled the room before anyone else. Katara managed to wait for the last of the Earth Kingdom representatives to leave the room before she slammed her fist on the heavy wooden table. She screamed in a mix of frustration and pain. 

“Are you okay?” Suki asked. Katara cradled her hand and rubbed her wrist absently. 

“Fine,” she muttered. “He’s not going to stop this, is he?”

“You know him better than any of us,” Toph said with a shrug. 

"Someone needs to knock some sense into that kid," Sokka grumbled.

"This is all my fault." Katara sank into a chair and buried her head in her arms. "Everything's a disaster. I should have waited until after the summit to break up with him."

"It's  _ not  _ your fault," Toph snorted. "He's the one who put you on the spot in the first place. Aang is being a brat." 

"He's going to make the next few days difficult, though," Zuko sighed. 

"Maybe someone should talk to him," Suki suggested.

" _ Again _ ?" Sokka whined. "I don't know what else can be said to him at this point. We're going to have hit him! That's where we are right now."

"Sokka," Suki chided.

"No, he's right," Toph said. "Look, we've tried talking sense into him. It didn't work. Maybe beating some sense into him will."

"You're  _ not _ going to beat him," Katara jumped in. "It wouldn't be a fair fight." Toph scoffed at that.

"Obviously," she said. "What do you suggest,  _ Momtara _ ?" Katara sighed and shook her head. She hated that things had come to this.

"I think I need to leave," she told her friends. There was a stunned silence for a beat while her friends turned what she had just said over. Then...

"Absolutely not!"

"You can't let Aang's-"

"Are you kidding? We-"

"-attitude chase you off!"

"-need you here, too!"

"We'll figure it out! Aang has to learn-

The room echoed with the outraged shouts of Katara's friends. It was almost impossible to tell who was shouting what at the moment. Fortunately, the heavy wooden door was closed. Katara raised two fingers to her lips and let out a high, trilling whistle, cutting through the cacophony.

"Guys, I don't want to leave any more than you," she said when she had everyone's attention back. "But it's more important that the Avatar not insult the world's leadership. And if I'm distracting him right now, then it's best that I not be here." Silence fell across the group once again. 

"How is it that it always falls to you to be the mature one?” Suki asked. She laughed humorlessly and shook her head. “Even when we were still in the war, you always had to be the mature one.” 

“I wasn’t  _ always  _ the mature one,” Katara sighed. 

“Right.” Toph scoffed and jerked her head towards Zuko. “Sometimes it was Dadko.” Zuko scrunched his nose at his new nickname, but he didn’t have the energy to bicker with Toph about it. 

“We still need you here,” Sokka insisted. “You’re important to this summit, too.”

“They’ll still have you,” Katara pointed out. 

“But you’re closer with the Northern and Foggy Swamp Tribes.” 

“What little of that business is left you can use my notes for.” Katara folded her arms and set her jaw firmly, a clear sign that she wouldn’t be swayed. And there was nothing that  _ could _ be said Katara was right. The Avatar's presence made everyone feel more at ease. Finally, Sokka shook his head with a huff. 

“This sucks,” he said. “But if you insist on going, I’ve got your back.” Katara smiled sadly and hugged her brother. 

“Thanks, Sokka.” 

“We’ve all got your back, Sugar Queen,” Toph added. Katara pulled her into the hug, too. Then Suki threw her arms around the three. Zuko stood off to the side, smiling at his friends. Katara raised an eyebrow at him and waved him over. 

“You already know what this is,” she told him. “Bring it in, Sparky!’ Zuko hesitated only a moment before he joined the knot of his friends.

“It shouldn’t need to be you leaving,” Toph said from beneath someone’s arm. As if that were the cue, the group hug dissolved. Katara sighed and shrugged her shoulders. 

“I don’t like it either,” she said. “But he  _ is  _ the Avatar. He’s more necessary right now than I am.” 

“ _ You _ should have been the Avatar,” Sokka grumbled. Then his face brightened with a wide smile and he laughed. “Hey!  _ Avatara _ ! Get it?” 

“Sokka…” Katara groaned. Then everyone dissolved into helpless laughter. 


	5. Chapter 5

**_Chapter 5_ **

The official story was that Katara was always supposed to leave early. When Zuko happened to hear a couple of his guests asking about her sudden departure, he told them that she had actually stayed a couple of days longer than she intended as a favor to him and her brother. He wasn’t sure if they believed him or not, but by the end of the day it had been thrown into the rotation of speculation. It hadn’t quite overtaken the rumors about Katara and Aang’s split, but it had helped a bit. 

Aang, for his part, seemed chastened by Katara’s sudden departure. He found the rest of his friends before dinner and apologized for his behavior. 

“I didn’t mean to chase her off,” Aang told them. 

“We’re not the only ones you owe an apology,” Toph grumbled. “But as long as you hold it together for the next few days, I guess we’ll be alright.” Zuko’s response had been chilly, and Suki had barely met Aang’s eyes, but no one was angrier than Sokka. 

“If you had listened to literally anyone before now, it wouldn’t have had to come to this,” he told Aang. His voice shook with anger and his lip curled with disgust. “Just do us all a favor, and grow up, alright?” 

With that Sokka stormed out of the room to catch his breath. By the time the afternoon meetings began he had found something of the lukewarm cordiality he wished Aang had shown Katara. He was as boisterous as ever with the rest of the attendants, so if he allowed some of his simmering irritation to boil over now and again, no one but his closest friends noticed. 

Katata, in the meantime, spent the rest of the day in her room, packing and making plans. She had sent a letter to her father explaining what had happened. He wouldn’t receive it until after Katara had gone- probably after the end of the summit- but Katara wanted to make sure he knew something of the situation before the rumors made it to him. And she didn’t want him to worry when she didn’t return home. Katara had something else in mind. 

The first of her friends she spoke to was Zuko. 

“I know it’s short notice,” she told him. “But since I’m leaving anyway, I’d like to put my time to good use.”

“It’s not a problem,” Zuko promised her. “I already know where Jun is. I can arrange to get you to her as soon as you’re ready to go.” Katara sagged in relief. 

“Thanks a lot, Zuko.” 

  
The next person Katara needed to speak to was Sokka. He was the first of the group aside from Zuko to hear about her plans. 

“You want to find Hama?” His jaw hit the floor in shock. “What on earth for?” 

“I need her help,” Katara explained. She told him what she had told Zuko- what she had  _ tried _ to tell Aang months ago. Sokka seemed to understand. He still didn’t like it, though.

“What if she hurts you?” Sokka asked. “At least wait until someone can go with you.”

“No, Sokka,” Katara insisted. “I can handle Hama. If I bring someone, she might try to use them against me.”

“And if you go alone, Hama might bloodbend you off a cliff!” Sokka yelled and waved his hands in a way that made Katara want to laugh in spite of everything. 

“I’ll be alright,” Katara promised. “If it comes down to a fight, I can beat Hama. Don’t forget, when she can bloodbend, so can I.”

“But she’s been doing it longer! Sure you’re stronger, but she’s  _ ancient _ ! She’s got experience on her side.” Katara waved off his concern with a confidence that wasn’t completely real.    
  


“The worst thing that can happen is that Hama will say no,” Katara said. “But I don’t think she will.”

“Oh no?” Sokka scoffed. “The last time you saw her, you got her arrested. What makes you think she’ll want to teach you again?” Katara gave a nervous shrug and paced the floor of her brother’s room. 

“My bottomless well of optimism?” she offered. Sokka snorted derisively. 

“Sure.” He sighed and ran his hand over his face. “Can’t you wait until after the summit? I’ll go with you! Heck, we’ll  _ all _ go with you!” Katara shook her head. 

“No, Sokka,” she said firmly. “I  _ want  _ to do this alone. Besides, Dad will need you after the summit. At least for a few weeks. Toph will have to go back to Gao Ling. Zuko...I mean, come on!” Katara waved around at their surroundings. Her meaning was clear. Sokka had to admit, if only to himself, that it was unrealistic to think that Zuko could take time away from his duties to accompany Katara on another life-changing field trip.

“Well, what about Suki?” Sokka suggested. "She's a trained soldier. Hama would  _ never  _ expect her to attack with a fan!" 

“Sokka,” Katara shook her head and smiled gently. “I’m going alone. I’ll be fine. And I promise I’ll let you all know when I find Hama. Everyone will know exactly where I am. If something happens to me…”

“If something happens to you, I’ll wring the old crone’s neck myself,” Sokka said darkly. 

“Duly noted,” Katara laughed. Sokka shot her an irritated glare. Then he threw his hands up in surrender. 

“If there’s no talking you out of this-”

‘There isn’t.”

“-then I won’t try.” Katara crossed the room and hugged Sokka tightly. 

“Thank you,” she said. Then she pulled away, and Sokka could tell immediately he wasn’t going to like what she said next. 

“What?” he asked suspiciously. 

“There’s one thing,” Katara admitted. “I’d like you to keep this between us for now.”

“ _ What? _ ” Sokka yelped. Katara shushed him and motioned for him to lower his voice. 

“It’s just until I find Hama.” That did little to soothe her brother’s nerves. 

“Katara!” Sokka groaned, burying his face in his hands . 

“Just until I find her!” Katara pleaded with Sokka. He looked up at her and narrowed his eyes. 

“Why?” he demanded. Katara sighed and threw her arms to the side. 

“I want to avoid this part,” she explained. “I don’t want to have to go through this again with Suki and Toph. Not when the summit is still going on. I’ll let everyone know what’s going on once I find Hama. She might not even be alive, and everyone will have freaked out for nothing.” Sokka sat on his bed and pinched the bridge of his nose. How, he wondered, did he always find himself in the middle of these situations.

“Dad’s not going to be happy,” he warned. 

“He’ll get over it,” Katra said with a shrug. Chief Hakoda was going to be unhappy about a lot of things that had happened at the summit. There was nothing she could do about it. Sokka shook his head. 

“I’ll give you until the summit is over,” he said. “Then, I’m telling everyone.” 

“Perfect!” Katara exclaimed. “I’ll probably have found her by then.” Sokka rolled his eyes. 

“That’s three days,” he reminded her. 

“Jun’s going to help me find Hama,” Katara told him. “Three days is plenty.” Sokka balked.

“You’re getting that nut with the poison mole to help you?” He groaned again. “Any more good news before you go?” Katara laughed and headed for the door. 

“I have to go finish packing,” she said. “I’m leaving early tomorrow morning. You’ll come to say good-bye?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Sokka waved her off. Katara grinned and hung on to the door frame. 

“Great,” she said, pulling the door shut. “Because I’m leaving before sunrise.” Sokka gapped at the closed door. From the hallway, Katara could hear her brother’s displeased whine. 

“Come on!” he yelled after her. 

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Sokka and Zuko were the only ones who came to see Katara off the next morning. The three met in the courtyard where a carriage and driver waited to take Katara away. Katara left notes for Suki and Toph, explaining that she thought it would be easiest if she left without fanfare. She hoped that her friends would understand. 

“I told Suki I was coming to see you off,” Sokka told her. “She said have fun, and then went back to sleep. I think she thought she was dreaming.” Katara stifled a laugh at that. Suki would fit right in with her new family of late risers just fine. 

“Uncle wishes he could have said good-bye in person,” Zuko said. “But he says he’ll miss you and to feel free to come again any time.” 

“I did say I’d help you with the budget,” Katara reminded him. Zuko winced, remembering how well that conversation had gone.

“You sure did,” he said. “That’ll be a while though.”

“I’ll be back whenever you need me,” Katara promised. 

“Oh!” Zuko reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy looking suede pouch. It jingled suspiciously as he handed it over to Katara. “Uncle asked me to give this to you.”

“Why?” Katara asked dubiously. She took the pouch from Zuko. He shrugged. “Tell me why! Did you tell him what I was doing?” 

“No! No!” Zuko denied quickly. He shifted nervously on his feet. “But…”

“But?” Katara raised an eyebrow at him. 

“I think he’s in touch with Jun,” Zuko explained. “She does some work for the White Lotus sometimes. I’m not supposed to know. But then Uncle wasn’t supposed to know about this, so...” Katara sighed. Then she opened the pouch and gasped. 

“Zuko, this is too much,” Katara said. The pouch held a small fortune in gold coins. If Katara was conservative in her spending- and she always was- it would be enough to last her a year at least. It was at least twice what she had in her own purse. 

“Please take it,” Zuko insisted. “Honestly, it’s no problem.”

“But I already  _ have- _ ” Katara started to protest.

“You won’t let anyone come with you,” Sokka pressed. “At least this way we know you have enough to get by. Take the sack of money, and shut up about it.” Katara began to argue, but both Sokka and Zuko had folded their arms stubbornly, and the pre-dawn light was beginning to brighten the sky. 

“Alright,” she relented. “I’ll bring you your change.” 

“Just write if you need more, alright?" Zuko scoffed. 

“Just write period,” Sokka said. “I’m serious. Write every day if you can.” Katara hugged her brother. 

“I’ll write as often as I can,” she swore. Sokka grumbled but didn’t push any further. Katara turned and hugged Zuko next. 

“Take care of yourself,” he said. Katara nodded against his shoulder. 

“You, too.” She stepped away and smiled at the two. “I’ll let you know when I get to Jun.” She turned to climb into the carriage, and paused. 

“Hey, I know you’re all upset with Aang right now,” she said. Sokka snorted at that. Zuko remained impassively quiet. “Just look out for him, okay?”

“We’ve got it covered,” Sokka promised. “Get out of here, before someone sees you and blows your big secret getaway.” Katara smiled weakly and pulled herself into the carriage. Zuko gave her driver a signal and then Katara was off. She turned in her seat and watched through the back window as Sokka and Zuko grew smaller and then disappeared into the darkness. For the first time, Katara was setting out completely on her own. Turning forward in her seat, she blinked against the sudden stinging her eyes. It wasn’t much different from when she left home for the first time five years ago, Katara told herself. But that thought didn’t slow the silent tears making tracks down her cheeks. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**_Chapter 6_ **

The inn where Jun was staying was jarringly picturesque. Katara’s room was simple- done in shades of cream and beige, but the simplicity was comforting. The floral quilt on the bed and the cherry stained dressing table gave the room a homey feel. It wasn’t the type of place where Katara expected to find a woman like Jun staying. The bar across the street, however, seemed exactly like Jun’s scene.

The Sailor’s Moon was nearly indistinguishable from the bar where Katara and her friends had found Jun all those years earlier. Everything down to the stains on the stools looked exactly the same. Jun sat at the bar leisurely attending to her drink, ignoring the appreciative stares of the mostly male patrons. Some of their eyes turned to Katara when she entered, putting her immediately on guard. She brushed her hand against the waterskin at her waist, but they all seemed content to just look at her, especially once they saw that she was with Jun. 

“Long time no see,” Jun greeted Katara as she climbed on to the stool next to her. “But I’m surprised to see you this soon.” 

“Huh?” Katara questioned, her brow furrowed in confusion. 

“Prince Pouty’s first letter made it seem like it would be a while before you were free to come to me,” Jun explained. “So, what happened? Isn’t there some big summit or something you were needed for.” Katara felt her face heat up, and she looked away from Jun.

“Well, things changed,” she said. Jun’s brow arched upward and she regarded Katara with a knowing look. 

“I see.” Jun took another sip of her drink. “Sounds like boy trouble. Prince Pouty misbehaving?” 

“It’s not a big deal,” Katara told her. She shifted uncomfortably and wrapped her arms around her middle, but she saw no reason to lie. “I broke up with my boyfriend, and he’s not handling it well, so I decided to give us both some space.” 

"Trying to get over a breakup, eh?" Jun said. She motioned for the bartender to bring Katara the same drink she was having. "That's too bad. I really thought you and Prince Pouty would go the distance."

"Stop it," Katara huffed. "Zuko and I were never together, and you know that."

"Oh, no? Well," Jun shrugged. "You two are still young. You'll figure it out eventually." 

"You have no idea what you're talking about." Katara rolled her eyes at the older woman. "There's nothing between Zuko and me."

"Sure, there's nothing," Jun examined her nails. "Which is why he paid my fee. Upfront. Plus a  _ very _ generous per diem."

"He's my  _ friend _ ," Katara stressed. 

"There's a thin line between friend and  _ friendlier _ ." Jun took a sip of her drink and eyed Katara over the rim of her cup. "Trust me, I have a sixth sense about these things."

"Right," Katara said sarcastically. "You're a bounty hunter who doesn't stay in one place longer than a couple of months. Now you're a matchmaker, too?"

"Hey, everyone needs a side hustle." Jun shrugged with a smirk. Katara's skepticism had no effect on Jun, it seemed. She took no notice when Katara rolled her eyes again.

"You should stick to your day job," Katara advised Jun. "You're  _ way _ off base." Jun just laughed with a knowing wink.

"Whatever you say, Boss." 

The bartender returned with Katara's drink then, and she used it as an opportunity to end the conversation. She took a tentative sip, and found the drink was surprisingly fruity, and not as strong as she feared.

"I would have thought you were more of a baiju girl," Katara said. "What is this?'

"Arrack with moon peach nectar," Jun replied. "Be careful. Too much of it will sneak up on you." Katara set her cup aside and cleared her throat.

"So," she said, turning on her stool to face Jun. "What's the plan?" Jun quirked an eyebrow at Katara as she drained the last of her drink.

"You tell me. This is  _ your _ show. Where do we start?" Katara's face fell, but only for a moment. 

"Your mole thing needs something to track, right?" she asked. 

"My  _ shirshu _ ,  _ Nyla  _ tracks by scent, yes." Jun shot Katara a look that could only be taken as a warning.

"Alright, then we should go to Hama's inn and get something for  _ Nyla _ to track."

"Where is her inn?" Jun asked. Katara reached into her bag and pulled out a map.

"She used to live in Kazuko," Katara told her pointing to the town. Jun leaned over to study the map.

"That's not too far," she said. "If we leave early tomorrow morning, we should get there by evening." Katara nodded gratefully.

"One thing," she added. Jun looked up at her expectantly. "Hama...well, she left a lot of people in that town rattled. There's a small chance there might be trouble."

"Trouble, huh?" Jun repeated. "Just who is it we're tracking down?" Katara's face set grimly and she drained the rest of her drink. 

"An octogenarian with a chip on her shoulder."

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Jun had Katara up the next morning long before sunrise. The zodiacal light cast an eerie glow over the sleeping town and made it easier for Jun to saddle Nyla without a torch. It didn’t take long for them to prepare to leave. Katara had only a light bag with a few changes of clothes and her money pouch, and Jun had only her saddle bags. They were gone before the town’s earliest risers had stirred from their beds. 

Hama’s inn was on the main island of the Fire Nation. They wouldn’t have to cross water to get to her. There were mountains to go over, but Jun assured Katara that it wouldn’t be a problem for Nyla. They stuck to the woods and lesser traveled roads. 

“Prince Pouty’s done a lot of good for the country since the end of the war,” Jun told Katara, “But this far from the capitol, attitudes haven’t changed that much. They don’t like strangers.” 

“I have travel papers signed by Zuko,” Katara assured Jun. 

“Trust me, that won’t matter much in certain places,” the older woman said grimly. “But don’t worry about it. Nyla will sense anyone coming before they see us.” 

As Jun promised, their journey was uneventful. They stopped halfway through their trip to track their progress and eat a small, but filling meal of stew. Jun offered to cook, but Katara waved her off. 

“I like to be busy,” she said. “Besides it’s only stew. I usually had to make two meals when I traveled with my boy- with my ex-boyfriend.” 

“Why two?” Jun asked. 

“He’s vegetarian.” Katara ladled out two servings of their meal and passed Jun a bowl. “I mean, there were times when I would just eat whatever he was eating, but it never seemed to fill me up. The vegetarian dishes I know how to make are just not that heavy.” 

“What about when he cooked?”

“He didn’t.” Katara could hear the flinty edge in her voice, but she hoped that maybe Jun hadn’t. The way the older woman’s spoon paused for a moment halfway to her lips suggested that she had, though. 

“Did he do other things?” Jun asked. Katara shrugged. The truth was she handled most of the arrangements when they traveled. 

“He’s the Avatar,” Katara said. “And he’s never been really good with details. He had to meet with state heads and I took care of food and laundry.” Katara shrugged again and lowered her eyes to her bowl. There was no way to make that sound anything but pathetic.    
  


“So what did he do for you?” Katara looked up at that. 

“He was sweet,” Katara told Jun. “And we traveled all over the world to all of these amazing places.”

“You wouldn’t have been able to travel without him?” Jun regarded Katara skeptically. 

“Well, I would of course,” Katara admitted. “But Aang needed me, and I was happy to do it.” 

“I hope he paid you well at least,” Jun scoffed. 

“He was my boyfriend.” Katara sighed. “He didn’t have to pay me.” Jun snorted into her stew. 

"What I'm hearing is that this kid treated you like his mom and secretary for five years, and you got  _ nothing _ out of the relationship?" Jun scoffed. "You hate to see it happen to a good woman. Congratulations on getting out before it got messy."

"But it  _ has _ been pretty messy," Katara sighed. "He didn't take it well, and since he's the Avatar, everyone is going to be talking about it."

"So what?" Jun asked. Katara blinked up at her. Jun shrugged. "You weren't married to him. The only people who know he proposed are your friends- and well, me. But I don't care enough to tell anyone else. And it's not like you have kids together. Trust me. I've seen much messier break ups. I've  _ been _ through messier break ups. You're- what?- like 18?"

"Nineteen," Katara corrected her. 

"You'll live to break more hearts," Jun promised. "Of better guys."

"Aang isn't a bad guy," Katara said.

"Just a terrible boyfriend?" Jun supplied. Katara mumbled something under her breath, ducking her head to hide her blush, and she wondered when she would stop feeling the need to defend Aang.

"What have you been up to since the end of the war?" Katara asked. Jun looked amused at the abrupt change of topic.

"Same old," she replied. "War or no war, there's always someone someone else needs found. Although now that the war is over, I've gotten a lot more requests for family members who were separated by the war.”

“That’s good,” Katara nodded approvingly. 

“Sure,” Jun shrugged as she rose to her feet. “Warms my stone cold heart. We should get back on the road if we’re going to make it to Kazuko by night.” Katara looked up at the sky and saw that the sun had passed its zenith and was making its way to the western sky. Jun was right. 

Clean up was over in a few minutes, and once Katara doused the small campfire, neither of them saw any reason to break up the circle. Within fifteen minutes they were back on Nyla’s saddle and racing through the mountains again. They only stopped once more, just long enough to put on a few more layers of clothing to stave off some of the mountain chill.

As Jun predicted, they reached Kazuko just before nightfall. The shops were already closing for the day, but the town hadn’t begun preparing for sleep yet. There were still enough people around to be startled when Nyla raced down the foothills and into the middle of town. Cries of alarm rang out on the main street and several people ran for cover in shops and alleys, and several pairs of anxious eyes peeked from windows to see what was happening. Katara began to regret the lack of subtlety in their arrival as the town’s guards approached them apprehensively. 

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” the boldest one- a man in his fifties at least- demanded. 

“We’re looking for someone,” Jun told him. “You know an old broad named Hama?” The name sent a nervous ripple through the crowd and Katara saw several people twist their hands into the ward against evil. 

“Hama,” the guard muttered. He spat on the ground and told Jun, “That witch hasn’t darkened our doors in five years. What business do  _ you _ have with her.”

“The kind that’s not yours,” Jun retorted. 

“That witch isn’t welcomed here! And neither are any friends of hers.” Katara slid down from Nyla’s saddle and approached the guard. He watched her with suspicious eyes, but Katara held her hands out placatingly.

“We aren’t friends of Hama’s,” Katara told him. “But we need to find her. Is her inn still standing?” The guard scowled. 

“We should have burned that place to the ground years ago.” A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. Inwardly, Katara breathed a sigh of relief. 

“I need to get into it,” Katara told the guard. 

“No one is allowed in there.” He crossed his arms and glared at her. “I suggest you take your friend and your beast and leave this town now!” Katara winched, but she didn’t back down. 

“I can’t do that,” she said. “I just need to go in for a few moments. You can do whatever you want to the place afterwards.”

“Leave, or you’ll be arrested.” The guard leaned forward and the rest of his men drew in closer. Katara gritted her teeth and met the guard’s eye. 

“I have the permission of the Fire Lord to go into Hama’s inn,” she said. Behind her she heard Jun hiss at her to be quiet. Katara ignored her and started the guard down. To her surprise, he guffawed at her, and his men chuckled along with him. 

“I’m serious,” she said. The guard just smirked at her. 

“I don’t care if you were the Fire Lord himself. You won’t get into that place.” He reached out and grabbed her arm. “But if you refuse to go, we’ve got a nice cell for-augh!” The guard yelped as something sharp and wet hit his neck. Katara turned to see Nyla’s tongue retreating into her mouth. The guard fell limply to the ground, too stunned to say anything. 

“I’d keep my hands to myself if I were you,” Jun warned. 

“Witch!” another guard cried. “What did you do to him?” Jun rolled her eyes. 

“Relax,” she said. “It’ll wear off in a bit.” She motioned for Katara to get back on the shirshiu’s saddle. “We should be going, kid.” Katara scrambled back onto Nyla’s back, sparing only a brief glance at the fallen guard. He cursed and struggled to move his limbs. 

  
“Stop them!’ he ordered. 

“Where’s this inn?” Jun asked. Katara pointed off towards the edge of the wood. 

“There,” she said. “Off the main road.” Jun spurred Nyla in the direction Katara gave and they pressed through the still stunned crowd. As they left, the shock was beginning to wear off, and Katara could hear the angry shouts of the townspeople. 

“You need to be more careful throwing around Prince Pouty’s name,” Jun told Katara. “There are places in this country where it’ll do more harm than good.”

“Duly noted,” Katara replied drily. They came to an abrupt stop outside of Hama’s inn. The shouts were following them closely, but Nyla’s speed had bought them a few minutes, at least. 

The doors and windows of the inn had been boarded up by someone, in order, Katara surmised, to keep some of the braver miscreants from breaking in. Katara pulled some water from the skin at her waist and bent it into a razor sharp blade. In two strikes, the wood blocking the door fell away, hanging loosely from nails at the door posts. Katara hurriedly turned the knob and threw herself against the door. It was locked. 

“You might want to hurry it up,” Jun warned. Katara glanced back and saw the first of what seemed to be an angry mob appear at the edge of Hama’s property. Cursing under her breath, Katara bent some more water, forced it into the lock and froze it. 

“She’s a waterbender!” someone cried. “She’s another one like Hama!” Katara ignored the spooked woman and kicked in the frozen lock and rushed into the inn, with Jun on her heels. 

“What do you need?” she asked the bounty huntress. 

“Something personal,” Jun said. “Ideally something only Hama has touched.”

“Great,” Katara muttered. “This was an inn. A bunch of people touched a lot of things.”

“Did she sleep here?” Jun asked. Katara perked up.

“Yeah! And I think I remember which room was hers.” She raced up the stairs and down the narrow hall. She looked into open doors along the way. The rooms were exactly as she remembered from her last stay. Simple beds and dressers only meant to be inhabited a few nights at a time. When she got to the room at the end of the hall- the one she was sure she remembered Hama sleeping in. To Katara’s relief, it was the right one. Unlike the others, this one was larger and homier, with a more elaborate bed and a wide fireplace with a comfortable chair beside it. 

Outside, the crowd sounded as if it were growing. Angry calls and shouts echoed around the inn. The sounds of breaking glass alerted the two women inside that they were beginning to throw stones. Katara looked around the room for something small enough to grab and leave. Jun darted towards the dressing table and grabbed a hairbrush with strands of white hair clinging to the bristles. 

“This’ll do,” she said. “Let’s get going before they do something stupid.” Katara and Jun hurried back down into the hallway when another crash rang out from the first floor. This time it was accompanied by the smell of something burning. Someone had thrown a bottle of oil with a burning rag in the mouth. They were going to raze the inn with Katara and Jun inside!

“Are they crazy?” Katara yelped. The fire spread quickly, fueled by the wood floors and dusty furniture. 

“Can you put it out?” Jun asked. Katara stepped ahead cautiously. The fire hadn’t made it to the stairs yet, but it wouldn’t be long. 

“I don’t have enough water,” she told Jun. “But I think I can get us to the door.”

“Do it!”

“Stay close!” Katara pulled the rest of the water from her supply and moved her arms until the water spiraled ahead of them. It wouldn’t do much but clear a path before it evaporated. Katara ran ahead, keeping the water spiraling as widely as she could. It hissed where it met flames, evaporating in the heat. Katara burst through the door, and Jun came out an instant later. The crowd roared almost as loud as the fire when they saw the two women had escaped. Firebenders pushed their way out front, with their hands already blazing. Jun turned to Katara whose hand felt instinctively for her empty water skin. She looked grimly at Jun.

“Nyla can’t take them all,” she told Katara. The firebenders were advancing in front of them, and from behind, the fire began licking at the door frame. Katara held her hands up at the crowd. 

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance we can talk this out?” she yelled over the din. Either no one heard her or no one cared, because one of the benders threw a fireball at her. It missed, but it was close enough that Katara could distinguish its heat from the house fire behind her. 

“I think that’s a no,” Jun shouted. 

“Guess we’ll have to do this the easy way,” Katara sighed. She shut her eyes and reached out with her bending. The spring rains had passed not so long ago, and the trees were full of water. The ground was still saturated with it, too. Katara smirked and raised her arms. Everyone in the clearing cried out in surprise and alarm when several geysers of water erupted from the grass. Katara doused the inn and the firebenders in one move. Jun leapt onto Nyla’s back and reached down for Katara’s arm. She kicked Nyla’s sides as she swung Katara onto the saddle behind her, and they sped off into the woods beyond Hama’s inn. 

“Nice work kid!” she turned and shouted over her shoulder. Her dark hair was plastered to her shoulders and back, but she was grinning widely. “ _ That _ was a neat trick!”

They didn’t slow down until they had put several miles between them and the town. Katara had no idea where they were, but she could no longer hear the mob behind them, or see any flames through the trees. She breathed a sigh of relief and slid down from Nyla’s saddle. Jun jumped down beside her, ringing the water from her hair. 

“Here, let me,” Katara said. She pulled the water from both Jun’s and her own clothes. They were still damp, but it was nothing a nice campfire wouldn’t take care of. Jun watched her work with a look of slight awe. 

“I haven’t met many waterbenders,” she admitted, “but you’re as impressive as any earth or firebender I’ve ever met.” 

“Thanks,” Katara said sincerely. “That means a lot coming from you.” Jun pulled the hairbrush from her waistband and held it out. 

“That was a lot of work for this little thing,” Jun mused. “These jobs don’t usually get this interesting  _ before _ I actually start looking for someone. I hope this little old lady’s worth it.”

“I hope so, too,” Katara sighed. 

“Why is this Hama woman so important to you?” Jun asked. “And  _ what _ did she do to piss off a whole town?” 

“That’s a really long story,” Katara replied. She tugged at her hair anxiously. 

“We’ve got time.” Jun shrugged. “This is as good a place as any to set up camp.” Katara looked around and realized that Jun was right. They were in a small clearing at the bottom of a cliff, and she could feel the pull of a stream nearby. Beside them, Nyla panted slightly. She needed a rest after a day of pushing so hard.

“Alright,” she said. She pointed off towards the woods. “There’s a stream not too far that way, if you want to water Nyla.” 

They split the work silently and instinctively. Jun tended to Nyla- unsaddling, and feeding the shirshiu- while Katara banked a small fire. They came together for a modest, but filling dinner before laying out their sleeping mats. 

“I wish we could have found a town with an inn,” Jun lamented. “I’m not big on camping.”   
  


“You get used to it,” Katara told her. She settled onto her mat and sat with the blanket around her shoulders. She looked into the low flames of the fire and took a deep breath. 

“Hama is a waterbender,” she began without prompting or preamble. Jun looked up at her curiously as Katara explained how she had met the only other waterbender from the Southern Tribe that she had ever known. Jun let out a low whistle when she learned the reason for it.

“I knew Prince Pouty’s dad and granddad were awful, but that’s just monstrous,” she said. Katara nodded in agreement. 

“They sucked. And Hama was their prisoner for years. That’s where she learned bloodbending.” 

“Bloodbending?” Jun leaned forward in spite of herself, half curious half dreading to know what it was. 

“The human body- well, all living bodies- are mostly water,” Katara explained. “But it’s different from regular water. It’s...more alive, I guess. It resists being manipulated, but Hama found a way.” Then Katara told Jun about learning from Hama. About being forced to learn bloodbending. About being responsible for Hama going back to a Fire Nation prison. Then Katara fell silent, and watched Jun from the corner of her eye. She wondered if the older woman would think she was a monster and refuse to take her any further. But instead Jun surprised her. 

“Do you feel bad about having her arrested?” she asked. “Is that why we’re looking for her?” Katara gaped at her for a moment. 

“Well....I...no,” she stammered. “I mean, not  _ really. _ I understand Hama’s anger- more now than I did back then, probably. But I still think she was wrong for what she did to those people. I wish there had been another way to stop her, but we had to think of all the people she had hurt and would have hurt if we left her free.

“Then why look for her now?” Jun leaned back and settled into Nyla’s side. There was no judgement in her voice, only the cool curiosity of wanting to know more about the job she had accepted. 

“I need her,” Katara said. “There’s something different with my bending. It’s...too strong, if that makes any sense. And I’m having a hard time keeping my bloodbending under control.” Jun arched her brow at that, and Katara scrambled to explain. “I’m not afraid of hurting anyone. It’s just that during the full moon, it’s hard to ignore the pull of it. It feels so... invasive. I need Hama to teach me more so I can get it under control. She’s the only one I know who can help me.” 

  
Jun sat quietly for a moment, allowing the story to settle over her. After a minute or two, she nodded slowly. 

“Alright,” she said. “I guess that is worth facing down an angry mob and nearly being roasted alive.” Jun glanced Katara over appraisingly.

“What?” Katara tried to discreetly wipe any errant food off of her face.

“Have you ever considered a career in bounty hunting?” Jun asked. “I could use someone with your skillset.” 

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**_Chapter 7_ **

After the excitement in Kazuko the day before, actually finding Hama turned out to be a bit anticlimactic. With the scent from the hairbrush, Nyla took them to another mountain village less than a day’s journey from Kazuko. According to Jun’s map, it was called Hino. It was a trading post and considerably larger than Kazuko, so the sudden presence of two strangers caused much less of a stir. Still they didn’t stop for any longer than it took to get a bite to eat and sound out some of the local gossip. No one was talking about any creepy old women or mysterious disappearances, and Katara feared that maybe they hadn’t found her after all. 

“Maybe the brush wasn’t Hama’s,” she fretted over her lunch. “Maybe we just found some random tourist. The inn is probably ash by now. There’s no way those people wouldn’t try to burn it again, or-”

“She’s here,” Jun assured her. 

“How do you know?” Katara glanced around the restaurant uncertainly. 

“The way Nayla was sniffing and poking around the mountains,” Jun explained. “That’s where the owner of the brush is. After escaping prison a second time, I’m sure your friend is probably not anxious to draw any attention to herself. If that’s not her hiding in the mountains, I’ll give you back every gold piece of what Prince Pouty paid me.” That reassured Katara a bit, but now she was more anxious to find Hama than ever. Jun, though, had other thoughts. 

“We should wait until night,” she said. 

“But tonight is a full moon,” Katara protested. “I don’t want her to get it in her head to bloodbend you.” Jun shook her head. 

“I’m not planning to go that far,” she told Katara. “I’ll get you to her front gate, and then I’m coming back to town. And if you need me-” Jun pulled something from her pocket and tossed it to Katara. She examined it with a slight frown. 

“A bison whistle?” she asked dubiously. 

“It works for shirshiu, too,” Jun assured her. So they waited for nightfall.

Nyla took them to a small cave a few miles outside of town, just as the moon was beginning to rise. Inside the cave, Katara and Jun could see the flicker of firelight on the cave walls. Someone was there, and Katara prayed to every spirit she could think of that it was Hama. She slid from Nyla’s saddle and started up the hill to the cave. 

“I’m going to get out of range,” Jun told her. “But I’m not going straight back to town. If you need me, just whistle.” Katara glanced over her shoulder and smiled weakly at Jun. 

“Thanks.” With a final nod, Jun turned Nyla and they disappeared into the woods. Katara turned back to the cave and straightened her shoulders. Her waterskin hung full at her side, and the trees were full of water, should she find it wasn’t Hama in the cave after all and she needed to fight. 

The walk up to the cave seemed to take forever, but it was really only a minute or two. Katara’s heart thudded in her chest. She could hear the blood rush in her ears, and she knew that if it was Hama in the cave, there was little chance the old woman didn’t know she was there. It didn’t matter.

Katara peered into the cave and blinked against the light of the cook fire at the back. A withered form sat bent over the flamed, facing away from the opening of the cave. Long, stringy grey hair hung down around thin, hunched shoulders draped in a dingy cloak or blanket. Katara held her breath when the back stiffened, noticing her presence. 

“I was wondering who they would send to catch me.” Hama kept her back to Katara. Her hand made circular motions over the stew pot, the fire cast an eerie glow around her. “I didn't expect it to be you. Have your Fire Nation friends sent you to capture me again?” Katara's spine stiffened, but she didn't rise to the bait.

“Have you kidnapped anymore innocent people?” she countered instead. Hama spun around and fixed Katara with a murderous glare. She had set many people running with that look. Katara just smirked.

“I  _ never  _ took anyone  _ innocent _ .” She turned back to her dinner. “But, no. I have not taken anyone else since our encounter. Oh, I haven't changed, girl. That prison didn't teach me the 'error of my ways'. It's just that no one has come to bother me here.” She glanced over her shoulder and shot Katara a malicious, toothless grin. “Maybe the fire rats have learned base fear at last.”

“Things have changed, Hama,’ Katara said, taking a tentative step forward. “The war is over. The new Fire Lord wants to rebuild.” Hama snorted.

“So I've heard.” She bent some stew into a bowl, and turned to face Katara. “If you haven't come to send me to prison again, why are you here?” 

“I…” Katara brought her hands up and wrapped them around herself. She pressed her elbows into her sides and willed them to stop trembling. 

“You…” Hama prompted. She shoveled a spoonful of stew into her mouth. Broth dribbled down her chin. She swiped at it carelessly with her forearm and gummed a tender bit of meat. Through it, she never broke eye contact with the much younger woman. 

'I need your help,’ Katara said at last. She dropped her eyes to the dirt floor of the cave. Hama snorted again. Then she threw her head back and laughed. The sound of it bounced off the cave walls until it seemed as if an entire crowd was laughing at Katara.

‘You need  _ my  _ help!” Hama's lips curled into a cruel smirk. “What's in it for me?” Katara fumbled at her waist and held up a bag that held the gold Zuko had given her.

“I can pay you,” she said. 

“Look around you, girl! Does it look like I need your gold?”

‘It’s enough for you to start a new life!” Katara insisted. “You could buy a real house-”

“Where?” Hama smiled sardonically. “In some quaint little Fire Nation town? Perhaps one where they don't know my reputation, but still hate the sight of me? No. I'm happier here.”

“Then tell me what you want.” Katara was almost pleading. “I will do whatever I can.”

“Really?” Hama arched an eyebrow. “What is my help worth to you, I wonder?” 

“I told you whatever is in my power to give,” Katara promised. Hama smirked.

“And what is it in your power to give me?” Hama laughed. “Go on, girl. Tempt me.”

“I could get you pardoned!” Katara leaned forward, but she didn't move any closer. Hama waved Katara off.

“I don't care about being pardoned. Not good enough.” Katara was getting frustrated. Her jaw clenched and her fists tightened at her sides.

“Then tell me what you want,” she huffed. 

“Well, I  _ am  _ an old witch who lives alone in the woods,” Hama said, tapping her chin. “Perhaps I should ask for your first born. Or make you carry me up and down the mountain a few times, just to see how much you  _ really  _ want my help.” The mental image the thought gave Hama must have been funny. She bent over and cackled into her stew.

“Hama, please…” Katara started. 

“ _ Hama please _ ,” the old woman snorted. “There's something I haven't heard in a long time.” She turned back to her cooking fire. “That necklace you're wearing.”

“What about it?” Katara's hand went to the pendant hanging from her neck.

“It’s Water Tribe, right?” Hama asked. “Northern, if I'm not mistaken.”

“Yes…” Katara replied carefully. 

“I don't see many things from either tribe. And that looks exceptionally well made. I'll accept  _ that  _ as payment.”

“B-but,” Katara stammered. “It was my mother's. It's all I have left of her.” 

“Has the Southern Tribe forgotten the  _ Songs of the Elders _ ?" Hama scoffed. "Don't they still tell the stories of our ancestors? Are your memories of your mother all bound in that trinket?” Katara kept her hand over her necklace. 

“Please,” she begged. “Ask for something else.  _ Anything  _ else!"

“No,” Hama said. “You promised me whatever was in your power to give me. It is in your power to give me your necklace, but it's not your inclination. It is in my power to help you, but now  _ I'm  _ disinclined to do it. Would you like a bit of stew before you leave in an uncomfortable hurry?” Hama turned to her dinner, leaving Katara staring at her back.

“Hama, there  _ has  _ to be something else,” she said quietly. Hama didn't answer for a long while. When she did at last, Katara almost couldn't hear her over the crackling fire. 

“I am an old...old woman,” Hama said. “I have been far from home for so long.”

“I can send you back,” Katara offered. Hama looked at her sharply.

“Don't interrupt me!” she snapped. “I don't  _ want  _ to go back. I don't want to see what those monsters did to my home or find out exactly how few of my friends survived.” Katara couldn't meet Hama's eyes. She dropped her gaze to the dirt floor of the cave.

“I... understand,” she said. Hama stared at her and Katara had to fight the urge to fidget. 

“I want a proper burial,” she told Katara. 

“What?” That wasn't what Katara was expecting. Hama turned to face Katara fully again. 

“I'm an old woman,” she explained again. “I have to make plans. I had just expected to rot wherever I lay, and I was content with that, I suppose. But now... I want the proper rites." 

“I'm not a shaman,” Katara told her. Hama waved her spoon dismissively.

“It's no matter,” she said. “You know the rites?” 

“... I do,” Katara admitted hesitantly. Hama nodded.

“I'm sure you've been to funerals enough,” she muttered bitterly. Katara flinched, but said nothing. “You're the closest thing to a shaman I have. You'll do.” Katara twisted into something that was almost, but not quite a frown.

“And if I agree to this…”

“I'll agree to help you,” Hama promised. “You'll have to stay until I die, though. That's part of it. However long it takes. It could be any day. Or I could hang on for years yet.” Katara froze.

“Would... would I be able to contact my friends?” Hama shrugged.

“I don't know how I would stop you. You're on to my best trick." Hama eyed her sharply. "I don't want to see them around here though.” 

“And…and I would have to stay...here?” Katara looked around the cave. Hama smirked.

“It's no palace,” she said. 'But it's warm when it needs to be. It's dry enough for comfort. These are my terms. Take them or leave them.”

“I've had worse sleeping conditions,” Katara said shortly. She took a breath. “Alright. I'll do it.”

“Good!” Hama said with sudden alacrity. She filled another bowl of stew and held it out for Katara. 

“Um…”

“Well, don’t just stand there,” Hama ordered. “I won’t have you getting sick and dying before I have the chance.” Katara walked into the cave and accepted the stew. It was surprisingly delicious.

“Thank you,” she said. Hama grunted in acknowledgement.

“Now, tell me what brings you all this way just to see little old me,” she ordered after Katara had finished half of her stew. “Although, I already have my guess.” 

“I need you to teach me how to control my... bending,” Katara said. 

“What do you need my help for?” Hama scoffed. “You were already a master when I met you. I merely showed you a new way to look at your power.” Katara set her bowl aside. 

“Something is... changing,” she tried to explain. “Lately I... it's as if I bend without thinking about it. And I'll find myself…”

“The blood of others calls to you,” Hama guessed. “And it's hard to resist?” Katara nodded hesitantly. Hama laughed and clapped her hands together. “Wonderful! Don't resist it! Wreak your havoc. Why would you want to  _ dampen  _ your power.” Katara huffed irritably.

“I control my power,” she said firmly, repeating Zuko's words. “It doesn't control me. If you can't help me, the deal is off. I’ll find another way.” Katara started to climb to her feet. 

“What makes you think you can?” Hama demanded. She scrambled to her feet with surprising spryness for a woman on her deathbed. Katara glared at her.

“I can do anything I set my mind to,” she assured Hama. “I mastered waterbending in a few months. I taught the Avatar waterbending. I mastered  _ your  _ lessons quick enough. When I decide I'm going to do something, Hama, I see it through to the end.” Hama stared at Katara for a long moment, and then, to Katara's surprise, she bowed her head and chuckled.

“Calm down, girl” she said. “I'll help you. The first thing you ought to know is  _ why  _ you feel the way you do.” Katara's eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

“You _know_ why?” 

“Of course I do.” Hama brushed past Katara and hobbled to the mouth of the cave. She turned her face up to the moon and shut her eyes. A blissful smile spread across her face.

“Did you know that the moon moves closer and farther at different points in its journey?” Katara rolled her eyes. Of  _ course  _ she knew that.

“Perigee and apogee,” she said. “My grandmother taught me about it when I was a child.” 

**“** _ When _ ,” Hama repeated with a derisive snort. “You're all of, what, seventeen?” Katara drew herself up indignantly.

“I’m  _ nineteen _ **.** Going on twenty. And I have been a woman by our tribe's standards for years.” Hama shrugged.

“Not everything our sainted tribe does is correct,” she said. “At any rate, you're right about the perigee and apogee. A perigee is approaching.”

“There are three or four perigees a year,” Katara pointed out. “I've never felt anything like this before.” Hama looked at Katara sharply. Her annoyance was palpable.

“Stop interrupting,” she snapped. “I know how many perigees are in a year.  _ This  _ one is special.  _ This  _ one is the closest perigee in sixty years. I wasn't too much older than you are the last time the moon got this close. When the perigee reaches its peak, all waterbenders will be at their strongest.  _ You  _ are already an uncommonly strong waterbender, but blood bending makes you even more sensitive to the changes in the moon and tides.” Hama sighed in disappointment. “If you insist on learning to  _ control  _ it, you need to understand it.”

Katara bowed her head. The moon was beginning to rise, and she could feel its pull on her. A glance at Hama told Katara that she felt it, too. Hama's eyes were shut, and there was a small, blissful smile on her withered face. In the pot, the stew sloshed against the sides and a whirlpool formed in the center. Katara could feel the blood flowing through Hama's veins. The old woman hadn't been lying. Her pulse was clear, but sluggish and tired feeling. Katara understood, without knowing how she understood, that Hama didn't have very long left.

Katara's eyes flew open with a gasp. Hama was watching her closely. The stew had stopped swirling in the pot. Hama's smile spread slowly, almost predatorily until she was grinning at Katara. 

“It’s like being caught up in a current, isn't it?” Katara lowered her eyes.

“I'm sorry,’ she said softly. “It's getting harder to control.” Hama shrugged carelessly.

“It's not as if you've hurt me,” she said. “And I can feel you, too. Ah! The strength and passion running through the blood of the young.” She sighed wistfully. Then she climbed to her feet and motioned for Katara to follow her.

“We’re going somewhere?” she asked as she scrambled after Hama. The old woman quirked an eyebrow at Katara. 

“Will  _ you  _ be able to sleep tonight?” Katara started to reply, but paused. She had been traveling for three days, and ordinarily all she would want at that point was a warm comfortable bed. But now that the moon was beginning to make it's ascent, Katara realized that she wouldn't be able to sleep if she had a cup of Iroh's most potent sleeping brew.

“Guess not,” she said at last. Hama's mouth curled into a smile. 

“I thought so.” She stretched her arms over her head, and Katara winced as she heard Hama's bones pop. “I want you to show me what you learned in the North."

Hama lead Katara down the mountainside to a small lake. Katara pulled off her outermost layers of clothing and stepped into the water. The cold made Katara gasp, but it was nothing to the pull of the moon and the feeling of her element lapping at her legs. She didn't stop wadding until she was waist deep. She was in further m than was strictly necessary, but she had wanted to sink and let the water close in over her. To her mind, she was exhibiting remarkable restraint.

Finally Katara took a deep breath and began going through the most basic forms she knew. It felt so much smoother than practicing alone in her room. The water didn't rush to meet her command now. It flowed with her, an extension of her limbs being stretched and worked like any muscle. Soon Katara moved into more complicated forms. She demonstrated her offensive and defensive moves and she even threw in a few moves she learned from sparring with Zuko and Toph. When she was done, water mingled with sweat and dripped from her hair and skin. She turned to where Hama was watching in vague approval.

"Not bad," she said. "Not bad at all. The Northern style of waterbending is different, but I can see the foundation is largely the same. Depending on how fast you learn, the southern style may survive me yet." Katara felt an almost electric jolt shoot through her spine.

"Southern style?" She repeated. Hama's lips curled up into a knowing smile.

"Bloodbending is not my only skill,"she told Katara. "I was a master Waterbender, too. Once upon a time."

"You said that before," Katara said hesitantly. "But I thought…"

"That I had lied to you?" Hama chuckled. "I admit, I was in a bit of a hurry the first time I took you as a student. I wanted to teach you  _ my  _ techniques first. But now you're staying on I'll have time to properly teach you Southern style bending."

"Would you show me now?" Katara couldn't keep the eagerness from her voice. Hama smirked at her.

"Only fair that I give you a demonstration, too," she agreed. She took Katara's place in the water as the young woman climbed up on the shore. Hama's movements at first lacked the fluid ease of Katara's, but as she warmed up, the years seemed to leech out of her old, weary bones. Water snaked and coiled around Hama, glinting silver in the moonlight. She struck out with precision and dexterity that gave lie to her age. In her element, Hama seemed deadly. 

To Katara's eyes, Southern style waterbending was as different from the Northern style as swamp bending. It was less rigid and more chaotic. It was the rushing ocean to the Northern style's deceptively placid river. But in it's bones, Katara could see the similarities that Hama had mentioned. The basic forms were very much of a family, and Katara began to hope that maybe she wouldn't be starting from scratch. 

Hama turned to Katara beckoning her to join her. Katara slipped back into the water and made her way to Hama's side. Without a word, Hama started to move slowly through simple forms. Katara watched her for a moment, and then began to copy her. Every so often Hama would pause and correct Katara's stance before going back to her forms. The water moved differently for Katara. It felt more forceful than the bending that Master Pakku had taught her. There was something more raw in it. More visceral. It slipped out of Katara’s control once or twice, but over all, Hama seemed pleased with what she was able to do.

“I’ll make a Souther Master of you in no time,” she assured Katara. The young woman beamed under the praise. Hama dropped her arms, allowing the water she had been bending to fall back into the lake. 

“Are we done?” Katara asked, feeling a bit disappointed. Hama turned towards the shore and waded back towards land. 

“I wasn’t expecting company,” she said. “If you’re going to be here a while, I’ll need to make sure I’ve got enough food.” 

“Are we going into town?” Katara asked, scrambling after Hama. The old woman snorted. 

“Hardly. When there’s a full moon, I hunt.” Katara paused as the implication hit her. 

“You...you use bloodbending to hunt?” 

“Of course I do.” Hama scowled at Katara for a moment before she bent the water off of her and pulled on her rough shift. “And don’t give me any guff about it being cruel. It’s not any more cruel than using spears and cudgels. Less so, in fact. I can stop an animal’s heart before it even knows what’s happening to it.” Katara couldn’t find any fault in Hama’s logic. She had never considered using bloodbending to hunt before, and now she looked back on the months she and her friends had spent on the run, hoping that Sokka would be able to catch a decent meal. Had she thought about it then, how many hungry nights would they all have been spared? Well, most of them. She wasn’t sure how bloodbending would have helped find Aang more food. 

“I kill enough to last me the month,” Hama explained. “And I’ll catch small things like, kangaroo mice and laughing squirrels in between if I need to. I will say this for this land. Salting meat is much faster in this climate than back home. Well, don’t just gawp at me, girl. Get out! Get dressed. You’re coming, too.” 

Katara hurried out of the lake and into her clothes, and stumbled after Hama into the woods. Hama moved deceptively fast for her age. Katara had to jog to catch up. They climbed further into the mountains, where fewer trees grew. In the distance, Katara could hear bleating squeals. 

“What is it?” she whispered. She had been on enough hunts at home and with Sokka to know that staying quiet was paramount. 

“Mountain sheep-hogs,” Hama replied in a voice that rumbled from deep in her chest. “Speak from here-” Hama jabbed a finger in Katara’s sternum- “Whispers carry too far.” Katara nodded. Then Hama guided them around a bend, and suddenly there was a whole herd of fluffy looking, stubby snouted animals. A few near the outside of the herd glanced up in their direction, but didn’t seem to register the waterbenders as threats. Hama motioned Katara to her side. 

“Reach out,” she instructed in that odd register. She was right, Katara realized. It didn’t carry on the air like whispering. She needed to lean down to hear Hama clearly. “Reach out and find their blood. Find a healthy one.” Katata shut her eyes and did as she was told. There were a lot of pregnant females in the herd. Those she skipped over, and the ones that were healthy, but would be too big for her and Hama to get back to the cave. A young one would have been ideal, but they were all asleep in the center of the herd, with the sick and injured. Finally, Katara found a relatively small, but healthy male sheep towards the edge of the group. 

“I have him,” Katara told Hama, copying her low voice. She felt Hama nod in approval. 

“Follow the blood,” she told Katara. “Go for the brain and the heart. Cut the blood to both of them.” Katara hesitated for a moment. This felt wrong. But Hama’s words from earlier came back. She hadn’t felt wrong slicing a lionseal’s jugular open, or gutting a fish. This would be a much less violent end.

It had been years since Katara had bloodbent on purpose, but she found that it came back to her easily enough. She followed the sheep’s blood flow through its body until she found what Hama had told her to look for. When she found the paths that led to the sheep’s brain and heart, she raised her hands the way that Hama had shown her all those years earlier and-

The sheep-hog fell over dead in an instant. The ones closest to it let out startled bleats that alarmed the rest of the herd. But there was no obvious threat. Their mate hadn’t been mauled or shot or crushed. There was no blood pouring from a wound. He had just keeled over and died. The herd shifted away, in case it was an illness that would spread among them, and then settled down again. One or two lifted their heads as Katara and Hama crept out of the shadows and claimed the body before disappearing into the woods. 

The animal was heavier than Katara anticipated, and Hama wasn’t much help carrying it, but they made it back to the cave without incident. Hama set to work preparing the sheep’s body. She tied its back feet together with a long rope and threw the other end over a thin, but sturdy branch on the tree outside of the cave. Then with Katara’s help, she hosited it up. 

  
“You know how to dress a kill?” Hama asked. Katara swallowed distastefully, but nodded. 

“It’s been a while, though,” she admitted. Hama grunted and went inside the cave for a couple of rocks she had sharpened into blades. She handed one to Katara.

“That’s fine,” she said. “I mostly want you to take care of the skin. I haven’t been able to get one of these in ages. That wool will come in handy. Let’s get to work.” 

  
  
  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**_Chapter 8_ **

  
  


Dressing the sheep took the better part of the night. When Katara and Hama finally finished skinning and gutting the sheep, they had to clean up the entrails and then wash the filth from themselves. The useless innards Hama had Katara bury a bit away from the cave’s mouth while she wrapped the sheep’s body in oil cloth and secured it to the tree. Katara knew this was to keep any predators or scavengers from catching the scent of an easy meal, and she buried them a few feet deep. Then she and Hama went to the lake to wash before they climbed back up the steep hill to the cave and crawled into the piles of rags that would serve them for beds until they could finish preparing the sheep’s wool. 

Katara didn’t expect to wake before noon, but she found herself awake a few short hours after she had gone to bed, just after the sun rose. She got up and began preparing breakfast. Hama didn’t have much. There were some wild grains that Katara recognized from her time traveling with her friends. They would be edible when boiled, but bitter and not at all pleasant to eat. But it would work for breakfast. She would need to go into town that morning anyway, and let Jun know she was okay and send word to Sokka and Zuko that she had found Hama. Her plan set, Katara grabbed Hama’s rough cookpot and filled it with water from a jug. By the time Hama rose, Katara had nearly finished breakfast and was looking for bowls to put it in. 

“Industrious young thing,” Hama grumbled.

“I like to keep busy,” Katara said distractedly. “Where are your bowls?” Hama climbed slowly to her feet and shuffled to a small alcove just off to the side of the cook fire. She handed Katara two bowls. When the pair settled down to their meal, Katara let Hama know what her plans were. 

“They’ll ask questions if they see you running around town,” Hama warned. “If you’re followed by some nosey townie, you know what I’ll do to them.”

“I’ll be careful,” Katara promised. “But if I don’t let my friends know I’m alright, they’ll come for me anyway.” Hama agreed reluctantly, and Katara set off after breakfast. 

The walk to the village took longer than Katara anticipated. She hadn't noticed the distance while on Nyla's back, but it was a good three or four miles from Hama's cave. It took her a bit over an hour to walk back to the town. The streets were busy enough that her entrance once again went unremarked. 

Nyla was in a pen behind an inn near the edge of town. Katara stopped by to see the shirshiu first. The large animal submitted to a quick, friendly pat on her head, then with a huffy snort signalled she was done with pleasantries and turned her attention to a water trough. Katara went into the inn and asked for Jun at the front desk. 

"Glad to see you lived through the night, kid," Jun greeted her. "I'm assuming it was the right place."

Katara assured her it was and asked if there was someplace they could speak privately. Jun led Katara up to her room. 

"Hama doesn't want anyone to know where she is," Katara explained when they were upstairs. "And I agree for everyone's best interest."

"Fair enough." Jun took a sip of tea, and motioned for Katara to help herself. "What's the plan?"

"I'm staying," Katara told her. She explained the deal she had struck with Hama in exchange for training her. Jun's eyebrows disappeared in her hairline.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" she asked. Katara shrugged.

"There isn't much of a choice," she said. "There is literally no one else in the world who can help me with this.” Katara threw her shoulders up in a wild shrug. Her stomach clenched at the thought of what she had just committed herself to. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

“ Are you heading back to Caldera?" she asked Jun.

"I can be,"Jun said. "I don't have another job yet." Katara sighed in relief. 

"Can you take a letter back for me?"

"Sure. I’ll put it on Prince Pouty’s tab." Jun gave Katara a few sheets of paper and a pen. Then she went to check on Nyla to give Katara a bit of privacy. Katara decided to write one note to all of her friends together. She hoped that they would still be at the palace when Jun got there, but she knew that Zuko would pass along the news that she was okay. 

Jun came back a little over half an hour later, laden with food for them both. Katara was sealing the envelope when she came in. 

“I figured an old lady living in a cave in the woods probably doesn’t have much in the way of snacks,” Jun said, offering her a plate of bean buns.

“She doesn’t,” Katara admitted taking a bun and helping herself to a cup of strong, dark tea. “We went hunting last night, but I think I’ll pick up some rice and vegetables before I go back.”

“Hunting?” Jun’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Katara explained the events of the evening before. When she told Jun about killing the sheep-hog, the bounty hunter let out a low whistle. 

“Are you  _ sure _ I can’t convince you to come work for me?” she asked. “The money is inconsistent and the hours are long and weird, but you get to travel and get paid for knocking heads.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Katara laughed. She finished her bun and handed the letter to Jun. “I should head back soon.” Hama hadn’t said anything about training that day, but Katara was sure the old woman would expect her trip would be short.    
  


“Some advice?” Jun offered as Katara headed for the door. Katara stopped and looked back at Jun expectantly. “If you don’t want a whole bunch of people in your business, you should probably find a point of contact. Someone who can handle buying supplies on your behalf and won’t talk about who they’re buying for or why. The innkeeper is probably your best bet. You have any money on you?”

“Yeah,” Katara pulled her bag of coins from its place beneath her tunic. 

“Keep that hidden,” Jun advised when she saw the wealth of coins in the purse. . “Preferably not on you. If you trust this Hama woman not to rob you, I’d suggest leaving it at the cave.”

“I wanted to buy some supplies,” Katara explained. “I wasn’t sure how much it would cost.”

“Well, what you’ve got there is a good two years wages for any family in a village like this,” Jun told her. “I’d say give the innkeeper two gold pieces to start with. One to keep quiet and one to buy you supplies and keep your mail. Then one gold piece every month or so. If the old lady really wants people to stay out of her business, then the fewer people who see you, the better. Just tell him that you’re on some spiritual quest or whatever.” 

“You think he’d buy that?” Katara regarded Jun skeptically. The older woman shrugged. 

“I think for a gold piece a month, he’d buy just about anything you sold him,” she said. 

Katara did as Jun suggested. She found Zinan the innkeeper’s office and made him her offer. It turned out that once he saw the gold pieces, he didn’t care why she was in town. He agreed to the arrangement and gave her rice and lentils out of his own larder with the promise of more the next time she needed supplies. Jun gave her a ride back to the cave so she wouldn’t have to carry everything back herself, and the pair said their good-byes. Katara was even more alone than when she left Sokka and Zuko in the courtyard, but this time there were no tears. 

“Did you have fun gadding amongst the filth?” Hama asked as Katara dropped her sacks at the mouth of the cave. 

“I wasn’t gadding,” Katara said. “I brought food.” Hama sniffed haughtily at the pile.

“We  _ have _ food.”

“Well, now we have more.” Katara resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Hama didn’t seem inclined to continue arguing about it. She gathered the rice and lentils and put them on the shelves by the cook fire.

“You’re not doing yourself any favors by feeding me well,” Hama noted. “I may wind up hanging in for a few more decades yet.”

“I’ll risk it,” Katara shrugged. “As long as I don’t have to live on wild marsh rice. I don’t like the taste.” 

“Spoiled brat,” Hama scoffed.

“Bitter hag,” Katara retorted. Hama whirled around in shock. Katara met her gaze with a challenging smirk. Hama scowled, but it only lasted a moment before the old woman chuckled and shook her head. 

“You’ve got some kick in you,” she said. “I’ll give you that.” 

Katara had been in town longer than she intended to be. Late afternoon was swiftly moving into evening, and already, Katara could feel the tug of the moon somewhere below the horizon. Hama watched her fidgeting with a knowing gleam. 

“Are you ready to train?” Hama asked.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Training with Hama wasn’t like training with Pakku or Yugoda. Hama was eager to pass on her knowledge, but she was sharp tongued and even her compliments were often tangled in barbs. Had Katara been younger or more invested in what Hama thought of her, it would have been discouraging training with the aged master. But Katara took her corrections and compliments equally instride. Besides, years of friendship with Toph meant that Katara was prepared to give as good as she received.

Three weeks into her stay with Hama, Katara had progressed further than Hama had hoped, and the barbs came tinged with a hint of pride. 

“You’re far less useless than I thought you would be,” Hama told her one evening as she prepared their dinner. 

“Useless?” Katara scoffed. “I learned bloodbending from you in a day, and I was actively trying not to.”

“You picked up the technique,” Hama conceded. “But you’re slow and sloppy about it in our last  _ lesson _ .”   
  


“It’s a poor teacher that blames their student for failing,” Katara sneered. “At that point I had only used bloodbending twice. And you haven’t gone over it with me since.” Hama glanced back at Katara and hummed thoughtfully. 

“And how often have you practiced since?” she asked. Katara’s face fell, and Hama smirked triumphantly. “You  _ can _ practice without the full moon, you know. You don’t need to actually be bending blood to work on your technique.” 

“Well, I…”

“The next full moon will be here soon,” Hama reminded her. “We’ll go hunting again. I would practice before then if I were you.”

Katara did practice. Every morning, she woke up at least an hour before Hama did. She prepared their breakfast and then she began to use the rest of her time to work on her bloodbending forms. At first, she practiced just the hand motions, but a few days into it, she found that she could manipulate the plants around her. Not simply drain the water from them as Hama had taught her, but bend the plants themselves to her will. It looked more like what the Swamp Benders did, and Katara wondered if Hama had accidentally stumbled on one of their techniques. Although she was sure Huu wouldn’t have thought to try his hand at bloodbending. 

Hama emerged one morning to find Katara using her bloodbending moves to make a willow fern twist itself into odd shapes. She watched her for a moment with an impenetrable look on her face before she nodded with grudging approval. 

“Keep it up,” Hama said, “and maybe next sheep-hog won’t take you an hour to take down.”

“It only took ten minutes!” Katara protested. “I thought age was supposed to make time seem faster.” 

“It takes me less than a minute,” Hama sniffed. Katara rolled her eyes and marched past Hama into the cave. 

During the next full moon, Katara fell into her bending pose without Hama’s prompting. She glared determinedly out at the wooly flock and immediately found the one she wanted to take down. This time there was no hesitating or exploring. She found the veins leading up to the heart and brain and clenched them tight. With a strangled bleat, the sheep-hog keeled over and hit the ground with a thud. It was all over within five minutes. Katara turned to Hama, panting slightly from the effort. The old woman eyed her critically, but Katara thought she saw a spark of pride in Hama’s eyes before she began pointing out the flaws in her form. She continued her lecture as they dragged their kill back to the cave and then while they dressed and covered it. Still, when they finally finished in the earliest hours of the morning, Hama looked Katara directly in the eyes and said,

“You made a lot fewer mistakes this time.” It was the closest thing to a  _ ‘well done’  _ that Katara could hope for.


	9. Chapter 9

**_Chapter 9_ **

The response to Katara’s letter arrived the week after Jun had delivered her first. Katara visited the inn after the village had shut down for the evening and found the cream envelope waiting for her at the front desk. It had arrived attached to a hawk that, while not bearing the Fire Lord’s emblem, was still fine enough Zinan to the innkeeper’s eye to inspire a sense of awe. Whoever his mysterious benefactress was, she was clearly someone very important. Fortunately for Katara, that made him even less inclined to pry into her business, though now there was a deeper sense of reverence as he handed her her mail. Katara realized he must have assumed she was some eccentric noble woman. She didn’t feel the need to correct him. Especially not once he offered her use of his office to go through her mail privately and write a response. 

It was Sokka’s messy scrawl on the three sheets of paper, which surprised Katara. He was supposed to have gone back home once the summit was over. 

_-Dad’s not going to be happy, but I wanted to be close in case you needed us._

He had explained towards the end of his letter. 

_We’re all still here, except Aang. He left before we could explain where you went,_

_so he doesn’t know that you’re...well, doing what you’re doing_

_We can’t stay much longer. Suki and I need to get back to the Water Tribe._

_Toph has to stop in Gao Ling before she heads to Omashu._

_Something about settling a bet or whatever._

_Anyway, we can only stay a few days longer._

_Zuko’s promised to keep us up with what’s going on with you._

_It’ll be faster that way._

_If something goes wrong, let him know immediately!_

_I still don’t like this, Katara, but you were always stubborn as a mule-ox,_

_so I won’t try to talk you into coming back._

_Just promise you’ll be careful out there, okay?_

_Love your_ _WAY_ _too understanding brother,_

_Sokka_

Katara wasn’t expecting the surge of emotion that came with the letter. She wiped away a couple of tears and pulled a second piece of paper from the envelope. It was a much shorter note from Zuko. 

_Katara-_

_I hope you’re doing alright out there._

_I know Sokka’s writing a book, so I’ll keep this short._

_The hawk is yours now. He is called Hawk 7 (I know, real original, right?)_

_You can change his name if you want._

_Everyone is leaving in a few days, but_

_Uncle and I are here if you need anything._

_Seriously._

_Anything at all._

_Please keep in touch._

_Yours,_

_Zuko_

  
  


Katara asked Zinan for a few sheets of paper and a pen. He obliged quickly with a simpering bow and left Katara alone again to write in private. She addressed her letter to Zuko, assuring him that she was fine and giving him more specific details about where she was. Jun probably gave him the map coordinates of the village and the names of Zinan and his entire family in far more detail than Katara ever could, but she added the information anyway. It made her feel safer, even though she was certain she didn’t have anything to fear from Hama. 

Katara sealed her letter with a bit of wax and attached it to the messenger hawk, whom she had decided to call Kilgik. She gave Zinan another gold coin for the care of the messenger hawk. Enough to see Kilgik housed and fed for months at least, plus some to spare for Zinan’s personal finances. The next week when Katara came to the inn, Kilgik had been provided an intricately carved perch in a place of honor in the stables at no extra charge. 

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Hama had nightmares. 

Katara had noticed that the old woman slept fitfully most nights, but it wasn’t until after the second full moon that Katara woke to her terrified screams. Hama thrashed on her cot, fighting an enemy Katara couldn’t see, but could guess at. She scrambled to her feet and tried to catch hold of Hama’s flailing limbs. She was slapped for her trouble, but Katara didn’t even notice it.

“Hama!” she called out. “Hama, wake up! It’s only a dream.” Hama lurched up, tossing her blankets aside and gasping for air. Her hair was wild and her face was covered in a sheen of sweat. She reminded Katara of a trapped animal, injured and cornered by some predator. Katara hung back, waiting for Hama’s eyes to fall on her. 

“Are you alright?” she whispered. Hama stared at her uncomprehendingly, and for a moment Katara thought Hama might not even recognize her. Then the old woman’s face crumpled and she began to weep into her hands. Her thin shoulders shook with the force of body wracking sobs. Katara crept forward and hesitantly put an arm around Hama. When she didn’t fight it, Katara pulled Hama into a full, if somewhat stiff hug. 

“It’s alright,” Katara murmured, the way her grandmother had done when she woke from her own nightmares. “You’re safe now.” Hama didn’t reply, but she clung to Katara, soaking her shirt with tears and sweat for a long time. Katara kept murmuring softly and stroking Hama’s thinning hair until she was done. 

Finally, Hama sat up and pulled away from Katara. She didn’t meet the young woman’s eyes as she rearranged her cot. Katara bent her shirt as dry as she could, and helped Hama straighten the blankets out. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Katara asked. Hama snorted derisively and scrubbed at her face with the corner of her sleeping shift. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she grumbled. 

“That was some dream for it to be nothing,” Katara pressed, not unkindly. “My gran-gran always says that a burden shared makes the load easier for everyone.” 

“How _sweet_ ,” Hama choked out a bitter laugh. “Did your gran-gran tell you that when the ash-makers came to destroy what was left of us? How did that work out for you?” Katara bristled at that, but swallowed against her annoyance. After all, it wasn’t really _her_ that Hama was angry at. 

“She told me that when my mother died,” Katara said. “She told me that when I woke up screaming from nightmares of my mother’s murderer.” There was a flash of sympathy across Hama’s face before it hardened into a cynical sneer. 

“I guess we all have our ghosts,” she said as she climbed back beneath her blankets. “The only difference is _my_ ghosts aren’t dead.” Katara lay down and stared up at the ceiling considering Hama’s words. After a moment, she whispered,

“Not _all_ of my ghosts are dead.” Hama’s breathing hitched, and Katara thought she would say something else. But the cave was silent. A few minutes later, the air was filled with the sounds of Hama’s light snoring. 

The next morning, Hama didn't mention what happened, so Katara thought it best to follow her lead. She also tried not to act differently, but that was harder than simply keeping her thoughts to herself. Katara had seen Hama naked before- the old woman didn't see a reason to trouble with modesty in the middle of the woods with just the two of them- but Katara had never seen Hama _vulnerable_. She didn't know how to respond to her now. 

"You're sloppy," Hama snapped during a training session. Katara quietly shifted her feet in the water and adjusted her arms.

"You'll catch someone's attention and bring those ash makers to my door," Hama grumbled later as Katara prepared to make her weekly journey to town. 

"I can stay tonight if you want," Katara offered. Hama scowled at her and waved her off.

"So you can accuse me of breaking our deal when you can't talk to your _friends_?” she snorted. “Go. But you know what I'll do if anyone follows you back." That was Katara's shortest trip yet. 

The boiling point came one day when Katara broke one of Hama's crude earthen bowls. Hama berated Katara for nearly half an hour, shouting until her voice was nearly hoarse about how clumsy and careless the young woman was. When she was done, she stood over Katara, face red and chest heaving. There was a challenge in her eyes. She was waiting for Katara to fight back. She  _ wanted  _ it. 

"I'm sorry, Hama." Katara's voice was jarringly quiet after Hama's tirade. Hama stared at Katara. Her jaw hung slack. Then she drew her hand back and slapped Katara hard across her face. 

"What was  _ that _ -" Katara stopped mid-shout when she saw the rage in Hama's eyes. 

"Don't you  _ dare _ ," Hama forced through her clenched jaw. "Don't you  _ dare  _ talk to me like that."

"What did I  _ do _ ?" Katara rubbed her reddening cheek. She was near tears in her confusion. The slap hadn't hurt that badly. Hama had put all of her strength into that blow, but she was still not nearly strong enough to cause the young woman much harm. Katara just hadn't expected Hama to hit her. Hama hadn't seemed like someone who liked the physical aspect of violence. Even her victims under the mountain hadn't been physically hurt beyond being bloodbent. 

"You talk to me with that soft voice like I'm a child about to have a breakdown.” Hama’s voice rose to a roar. “I  _ never  _ asked for your pity. I certainly don't  _ need _ it!" That wounded animal look was in Hama’s eye again, and for the life of her, Katara didn’t know what to say to her. Healer that she was, she had no idea how  _ not  _ to try to help Hama. It was different with her friends. They were all around her age, but Hama-

“I can’t pretend not to notice,” Katara told her honestly. Helplessly. Hama dropped her gaze to the shards of bowl on the cave floor. 

“I have my war wounds,” Hama said. “You wouldn’t understand.” Katara leaned forward earnestly. 

“I would,” she insisted. “I would understand if you told me.” Hama’s eyes suddenly snapped back up towards Katara, blazing in her rage once more. 

“No, you wouldn’t,” she snarled. “If you could understand me- if you had any notion of what I’d been through- you wouldn’t be here.” Katara blinked in surprise. 

“I came to train-” she started, but Hama shook her head roughly.

“You wouldn’t be in this country!” Hama spun towards the mouth of the cave, and clinging to the side, spat a large ball of phlegm on the ground. Then she looked back at Katara, all rage and fury with no outlet. “If you understood, Katara, you would _hate_ these people like I hate them! _Why_ don’t you _hate_ them? They stole _everything_ from us!” Katara shrank back and instinctively reached out for some source of water. 

“I can’t…” Katara started. Her voice was shaky and she suddenly realized she was crying. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I can’t make an enemy out of an entire country. There were...There _are_ evil people in the Fire Nation, but I’ve found evil people all over the world.”

“Are you still so naive?” Hama laughed bitterly. “Maybe there are evil people all over the world, but it was the Fire Nation that raised it to an art form. But you call the Fire Lord your _friend._ ” Hama sapt the word out like a curse. Katara’s first impulse was defense. She wanted to defend herself from Hama’s scorn. She wanted to defend Zuko from Hama’s hatred. But she understood from her time in the healing huts that she would be fighting symptoms without touching the source of the illness.

“My mother died to protect me,” Katara told Hama. “I watched it happen. I saw the man’s face, and I dreamed about him for years. I still do sometimes. My...my friend lost his entire people to the Fire Nation. I’ve seen children sent to prison camps and people who couldn’t defend themselves die at the hands of the Fire Nation. I _know_ what horrible things they’re capable of.

“But I also know that they are capable of changing. I know that not all of them wanted the war. I know that the leaders of the country hur their own people as easily as they did everyone else. I know that many of them were willing to fight and die to stop the war. I know these people, Hama. The good _and_ the bad. And I _have_ to believe that the good can outweigh the bad. Otherwise…” Katara froze, unable to finish that thought out loud. 

“Otherwise you’d become like me?” Hama’s tone was challenging, but the fiery hate in her eyes had dimmed. Now, with her wiry arms wrapped around her shriveled frame, she just seemed worn out. She looked around the cave with a wry smile, taking in the piles of rags that served as their beds, and the crude cook fire, and the broken shards of the bowl she had stolen from the last prison she would ever set foot in. Finally, she sighed and shook her head. 

“I suppose I can’t blame you for not wanting to end up like this,” Hama said. She met Katara’s eyes with a mix of sadness and anger. “But I can’t forgive them like you. Maybe _all_ of them didn’t...didn’t do what those soldiers and guards did to me, but they didn’t try to stop it either.”

“Hama-” Katara took a step towards Hama, but Hama spun around and stalked out of the cave. 

“It’s getting late,” she said. “Get started on dinner. I’m going to go wash. Oh-” Hama stopped and glared back at Katara, nodding towards the broken bowl. “Clean that mess up. We’re down to one bowl thanks to you. We’ll have to take turns eating.”

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Katara went on her weekly trek to the village two nights later. If Zinan thought it was strange that Katara asked for old dishes, he didn’t let on. He gave her a bowl, a plate and utensils to take with the small sacks of rice and beans. Hama likewise didn’t mention their sudden appearance the next morning when Katara brought out her new bowl. She hadn’t spoken much at all in the days since the broken bowl. They still trained, and Katara continued to improve, but now the lessons proceeded more or less in silence. Hama only spoke to make corrections. Katara didn’t expect it to bother her as much as it did.

With no one else to talk to about it, the situation wound up in her next letter to Zuko when she sent him her weekly update. 

_I really don’t know what I did wrong._

_Yeah, I feel bad for her- of_ _course_ _I feel bad for her._

_I don’t know why that’s such a terrible thing. It’s not like_

_I was pitying her or anything. But, who_

_wouldn’t feel bad? Right?_

_I think she_ _should_ _talk about it. It helped me._

_It helped you, too right?_

  
  
  
  
  



	10. Chapter 10

**_Chapter 10_ **

It took a week for Hama to break her silence. Abruptly, she slipped back into her normal pattern with Katara; snappish, peevish and withholding of her praise, but Katara decided it was better than monosyllabic grunts and dinners in silence. The waterbending training continued on. 

By the time Katara had been with Hama for three months, she had mastered everything Hama could teach her of Southern style waterbending. Hama’s begrudging congratulations filled Katara with a desperate excitement. She was now, Hama told her, master of the Southern Water Tribe style. Katara stared down at her hands for a breathless moment after Hama’s declaration. The weight of it settled as she followed Hama out of the water. Then to the surprise of them both, Katara began to cry. Just a tear or two at first, but those were quickly followed by a torrent of emotion. She sat on a boulder and sobbed. Hama rubbed her shoulders stiffly, unpracticed at the art of giving comfort.

“I suppose you’re regretting your promise to me now,” she said gruffly, patting Katara’s back as if she were trying to burp an infant. Katara turned to Hama, still crying, but utterly bewildered.

“Huh?” was her intelligent response. Hama gestured towards her with a withered hand. 

“You’re a master now,” Hama said. “I’ve taken you as far as I can. I can’t even offer you much by way of a decent sparring partner. I’m sure you want to leave, promise or no.” Katara bent a bit of water from the lake and washed her face. 

“Hama, I came to you to master bloodbending,” she reminded her teacher. “I’m not upset about what I promised you.” Hama blinked in surprise and withdrew her hand. 

“Oh…” Katara had never seen Hama look so uncomfortable. She crossed her skinny arms and eyed Katara from the corner of her eye.“Then what are you so upset about?”

“I’m  _ not _ upset,” Katara told her, laughing a bit. That did nothing for Hama’s mood. She scowled at Katara, uncrossing her arms and moving her hands to her hips. 

“Well then what was  _ that _ all about?” she demanded. Katara laughed again, harder and a bit hysterically. 

“I know Southern style waterbending!” she exclaimed. She waited for Hama to understand what that meant, but Hama just stared at her blankly. Katara threw her hands out to her sides in a huff. “Seriously? I’m a Southern style bending master! One of only two in the whole world! Don’t you understand what you’ve given me?” 

“It’s only right,” Hama grumbled. “You’re the last waterbender from the Southern Tribe. You  _ ought _ to know your own heritage.” Tears and laughter both threatened to overwhelm Katara again. 

“But that’s just it,” she told Hama. “I’m  _ not _ the last waterbender in our tribe. Not anymore. There are children who are just finding out that they’re waterbenders. And there are more babies being born every day. The Northern Tribe has sent masters to start a school, but now…”

“Now you can teach them  _ our  _ bending.” The wrinkles on Hama’s face multiplied as a rare smile dawned on her face. Katara reached out impulsively and grabbed Hama’s hands. 

“It’s  _ your _ legacy,” she whispered. “I can go home and tell them your story. I can teach them what you’ve taught me.” Hama blinked her eyes hard against a suspicious wetness and cleared her throat. 

“Yes,” she said gruffly. “I suppose you can. Once I’m dead and you’ve given me my proper rites.” Katara balked in surprise, but then smiled at Hama warmly. 

“Once I’ve given you your rites,” she promised. Hama nodded and pulled her hands out of Katara’s grasp. She pulled on her shift and headed back towards the cave. Katara felt a rush of gratitude as she watched the old woman hobble back to her home. 

After the war, the Northern Water Tribe had sent some of their own to the Southern Tribe to help with reconstruction efforts. Katara was thankful for the help, but the last time she had gone home, her village had changed. It was familiar to her only in that it was beginning to resemble its sister tribe, and while it was shaping up to be undeniably beautiful, Katara had felt more than a hint of regret and sadness. The Southern Water Tribe becoming a copy of the Northern Tribe isn’t what she imagined when the end of the war was still just a distant and desperate hope. But Hama had changed everything. 

When her duty to Hama was done, Katara could go home and give her people back a piece of their heritage that they had thought irretrievably lost. It was the most precious gift Katara had ever been given.

She told Zuko about it in her next letter. She wrote it before she had even read his reply to her last letter, too excited to tell someone her good news. There was another, even longer letter included addressed to her father and Sokka, filled with plans for a new curriculum for the waterbending school Pakku had started.

Oh! And Pakku’s reaction! Katara could hardly wait until she could face him on the sparring field again, this time armed with moves he likely hadn’t seen in decades, if ever. There would be so much to do once she got home, Katara thought. After so long feeling aimless or like her entire world was tending to Aang’s needs, Katara finally felt she had found purpose. 

Happiness had Katara distracted until she was nearly back to Hama’s cave. That was when she realized that she had never read Zuko’s letter. It was tucked into her pocket, and with her arms laden with her supplies from town, Katara didn’t want to pause to read it. Then back at the cave, Hama was waiting with dinner, and the bright, nearly full moon kept sleep from finding the waterbenders quickly. Katara decided to keep the letter to herself. She and Hama ended up back at the lake for more training after their meal, which eventually led to sparring.

As Hama had told her, sparring was too much for her old body. Katara hadn’t noticed how much arthritis had affected Hama. She never complained, and she got around with surprising spryness, as Katara had noted before. But sparring with the old woman highlighted how slowly she moved and how inflexible her joints could be. Katara found herself pulling blows that she saw Hama wouldn’t be able to dodge in time. Still, Hama showed impressive prowess, and what she lacked in speed, she more than made up for in creativity. It was equally clear to Katara that at the height of her power, Hama must have been a force to be reckoned with. 

The sparring session was shorter than Katara was accustomed to, but it had the added benefit of tiring Hama out. She went to bed after drawing the water from her clothes, leaving the remains of their dinner for Katara to take care of. That was fine with Katara. By the time she had finished cleaning, Hama was deep into her fitful sleep, and Katara was finally alone to read Zuko’s letter. 

He had filled the first half with greetings and questions from her friends, which she hoped the letter that she had just sent would be enough to satisfy. Katara hadn’t forgotten that she told him about Hama and her nightmares, and neither had he. Zuko had given serious consideration to Katara’s problem. She knew she shouldn’t have been surprised- he  _ had  _ been raised by Iroh, after all. His advice was tucked at the end of the letter.

  
  


_ When I was first banished, Uncle told me _

_ that it would be good for me to  _

_ talk about what happened. _

_ He told me that for years, and  _

_ always made sure I knew I could talk to him  _

_ when I was ready. _

_ But he never tried to force me to talk.  _

_ As for you...well, talking didn’t _

_ help as much as confronting your _

_ demons did.  _

_ I don’t know how that experience will help _

_ you here, but you’re a lot _

_ smarter than I am, _

_ especially with stuff like this. _

_ I think that, if you want to help Hama, _

_ you shouldn’t push her to do anything _

_ she isn’t ready to. _

_ Let her be angry, like Uncle let me be angry. _

_ When the time comes, let her confront her  _

_ anger, like you did. _

_ Just let her know that you’re ready _

_ to listen if she wants you to.  _

_ Don’t push her.  _

_ If she wants to talk to you,  _

_ she will. Pushing is only going to _

_ make her _ _ not _ _ want to talk. _

_ Be careful out there.  _

_ Write back soon. _

_ Yours,  _

_ Zuko _

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

The third full moon of Katara’s stay arrived two nights after their spar, but Hama’s joints still ached. Katara helped as much as she could with her healing, but not even a master healer could fight against the chronic ailments of age and the remnants of past abuses. Or so Hama told her, anyway. At any rate, the result was that on the night of the full moon, Hama was in too much pain to visit the sheep-hogs’ pasture, and Katara wouldn’t be able to carry even a small one back to the cave alone. 

“We’re in for a lean month,” Hama sighed. “There’s not but so much hunting in these parts. And neither of us has the proper weapons for it if there were.” Katara shrugged, thoroughly unconcerned. 

“I can get something from town.” Hama scowled at that thought. 

“You  _ just _ went,” she complained. “Someone’s going to start asking questions.”

“Not as long as I keep paying the innkeeper for his silence.” Hama still looked dubious. Katara sighed after a moment. “Well, I dated a vegetarian for five years. We can go a month without meat. There’s plenty of rice and lentils, and there’s enough to forage this time of year to keep us from starving.” Hama eyed her dubiously. 

“A vegetarian, huh?” she scoffed. “One of those Earth Kingdom boys? No Water Tribesman would turn down perfectly good meat.” Katara laughed, thinking about Sokka, and shook her head. 

“No,” she said. “He’s...he's an Air Nomad.” 

“I thought they were all gone?” Hama’s brow crinkled in confusion. 

“There’s still one left,” Katara sighed ruefully. “I dated the Avatar.” Hama balked and then let out a loud snort of laughter. 

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Hama chortled. “A girl like you aims high in everything. Why should your love life be any different?” Katara dropped her head, letting her hair fall around her face to hide her blush. 

“We broke up,” Katara explained. “Right before I came to find you.” 

“Who broke it off?” 

“I did.” Katara could feel her face heating even more. “He-he asked me to marry him.” Hama laughed again, harder and longer this time. 

“Good for you!” Hama cheered. “Always choose yourself! I lost almost as many friends to marriage and family as I did on the battlefield.” Katara smiled wanly. She didn’t find the situation nearly as amusing, even all these weeks later. She hadn’t expected him to write to her, but Aang had been conspicuously absent in Zuko’s letters to her. Katara knew realistically that Aang would need distance, just like she did, but there was a small part of her that hoped that they could start on the way to becoming friends again. Now she had no idea where he was, or if he knew where she was. 

“Where did you go?” Katara jumped and refocused on Hama. The older woman was staring at her with what Katara thought might be concern. 

“Sorry,” Katara cleared her throat. “I got lost in thought for a moment.” Hama nodded knowingly. 

“Thinking about your fella?” she guessed. Katara shifted her legs beneath her and tugged at the end of her braid. 

“Sort of,” she said. “It’s just...I haven’t heard from him. I guess I’m a bit worried.” 

“Oh.” Hama fidgeted with her hands uncomfortably. “I see. Well...I don’t have much experience with these things. My last date was a lifetime ago. But from what I understand, it’s best to talk to someone…to _ that _ someone about these things.” 

“Sure.” Katara turned her gaze to the mouth of the cave. The sun was beginning it’s descent to the horizon, lighting up the treeline. 

“I’m sure one of your friends could get a message to this...what was his name?”

“Aang,” Katara supplied. “But he probably still needs his space.” 

“I’m sure he’d change his mind if you told him you missed him,” Hama encouraged her. “Who knows, maybe he’ll even propose again.” 

“ _ What _ ?” Katara turned to Hama in surprise. “I don’t want him to propose again.” Hama’s mouth opened and closed a few times. 

“You don’t?” she managed to ask at last. “I just thought...you said you wanted to hear from him.”

“Aang and I were friends before we were...anything else,” Katara told Hama. “I still care about him, but as a friend. I don’t regret breaking up with him. I just regret how we left things. I want my friend back.” 

“I see,” Hama was clearly out of her depth. Katara hid a smile behind her hand and decided to take pity on her teacher. 

“Would you like me to start breakfast?” she asked. Hama waved her off with a surly huff. 

“Use whatever meat we’ve got left,” Hama instructed. “I’m not sold on this vegetarian thing.” Katara smiled to herself and set about getting the breakfast things together. 

“How about after breakfast I take another crack at your arthritis?” she offered. 

“If you’d like,” Hama grunted as she stretched out on her cot. “Won’t do any good, but if it keeps you busy.” It did keep Katara busy. She spent an hour working on soothing Hama’s aching joints. The results of her efforts was that Hama was comfortable enough to take a nap. 

While she slept, Katara went through Hama’s supplies. As the old woman had said, there wasn’t much by the way of weapons there, but she found spare twine and the trees provided more than enough twigs for her to work with. Sokka was hit or miss when it came to hunting, but he had taught her how to build a decent trap with far fewer supplies than she had now. Katara was confident that she would be able to bring down a few small animals. Enough to make the thin, but nourishing stews she had made for her friends before the war ended. Hama woke as Katara had finished setting up a trap near the base of a tree a few yards from the cave’s mouth.

“I will say this for you, you’re industrious enough,” Hama said gruffly. She moved less stiffly than she had before, Katara noted with some satisfaction. The healing sessions were working at least a little. Though it would probably be a good idea to end the sparring sessions. 

“I’ve never been a lazy person.” Katara wiped her hands against the front of her pants and went to join Hama. 

“So I see.” Hama grunted as she lowered herself to the ground. Katara sat beside her, folding her legs beneath her. “Still, between dating the Avatar and being friends with... royalty, I’m surprised you’re not a bit more fussy.” 

“I may have been dating the Avatar,” Katara said, “but I haven’t exactly had an extravagant life since the war ended. There was a lot of rebuilding to do at home. And I helped my dad with a lot of trade and peace negotiations.”

“Your  _ father  _ is in politics?” Hama asked. Katara nodded. 

“He’s the chief.” 

“Well,” Hama chuckled slightly. “I am in rarified company indeed.” Katara shrugged. 

“I’m sure you knew the chief in your day,” she said. “I don’t think the Southern Water Tribe has ever been as formal as the North, but it’s even less formal now. Dad is... well, he’s more of a servant than a king.”

“All the best leaders are,” Hama told her sagely. Katara smiled at that. 

“Well, anyway,” she continued. “Dating the Avatar wasn’t all glitz and glamor either. We still spent a lot of time camping. Even though the supplies we had were better than we had before the end of the war, it’s not like I was constantly in the lap of luxury. I still had to do all the laundry and cooking.” 

“What did  _ he _ do?” Hama asked. 

“Avatar stuff,” Katara replied vaguely, waving her hand. Hama grunted, her mouth twisted as if she had bitten into something sour. 

“Well, good on you for cutting him loose,” she said. “You are meant for bigger things than being some man’s house servant for the rest of your life. Who knows, maybe  _ you _ can take over for your father as chief.” 

“I think my brother has already been selected for that role,” Katara laughed. Now Hama was scowling. 

“Did they even consider you?” Hama spat out. Katara flinched in surprise at the venom in Hama’s voice. 

“That’s not it,” Katara assured her. “My brother fought valiantly in the war-”   
  


“And you didn’t?”

“-and he’s also proven himself to be a brilliant strategist. I helped my dad with the treaties, but Sokka did a lot of the infrastructure work. I think the tribe needs that more than what I can give.” Katara drew her knees up to her chest and gazed up at the cloudless sky thoughtfully. “I don’t think I would have wanted the job even if it had been offered to me. Don’t get me wrong, I love our home, it’s just…”

“Too small for you,” Hama finished with a nod. “Yes, I can see that being the case. The Southern Tribe wasn’t the most impressive even when  _ I _ was a girl.”

“It’s in good hands with Sokka,” Katara sighed. “He loves our home so much. I don’t think he even considers the idea of becoming chief a sacrifice. Not really. And his wife may be Earth Kingdom, but she loves our people, too.”

“Your brother married an Earth girl?” Hama asked. “Is she a bender?” 

“No. Suki is a Kyoshi warrior.” Despite herself, Hama looked impressed. 

“I hear they’re a tough bunch,” she said. “Good. The last thing the tribe needs is to be run by a boorish man with a wilting flower wife.” Katara hummed in agreement. 

“Hama?” She asked carefully. Hama quirked a brow and tilted her ear in Katara’s direction. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back?” 

“No.” Was Hama’s firm reply. She eyed Katara suspiciously. “I thought you weren’t trying to get out of our deal.”

“I’m not!” Katara promised. “I’m not. I’m going to stay with you no matter where that is. I just think it would be nice if you could see home again. It’s different, but it’s still there, and it’s growing again. Your last memory of home should be happy.” 

“My memories are  _ my _ concern!” Hama snapped. “I have the picture in my mind of home that I want. I’m not going back.”

“I’m sorry, Hama,” Katara ducked her head. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Then do me a favor and believe me when I say I don’t want to go home.” Hama looked as though she wanted to storm off, but she would need Katara’s help to stand. So she just folded her arms and glared off into the distance. Katara wondered if  _ she _ should leave, but as she was preparing to stand, Zuko’s letter came back to her. She glanced at Hama and shifted uncomfortably. 

“Do-do you want to tell me?” she asked. Hama turned and raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Tell you what?” she demanded. 

“Some of your memories,” Katara said. She smiled encouragingly at Hama. “What was it like when you were a kid?” Hama raised an eyebrow and studied Katara’s face closely, looking for some trap or trick or something. After a long stretch of silence, Katara sighed and turned her gaze back over the tree line.    
  


“I won’t push,” she told Hama. “I really do want to hear your stories, though.” Hama was still quiet. Katara sighed and started to get off the ground. One of them would have to start dinner soon, and she figured it may as well be her. 

“My father delivered me,” Hama said quietly. Katara turned to Hama, a bit lost for words, unsure of what she had meant. Hama tugged the back of her shirt and pulled her back to her seat. “My mother told me the story every year on my birthday until…” Hama cleared her throat. “Well, she had woken up that morning and realized that my father had forgotten his lunch. It wasn’t a huge problem- he probably could have shared someone else’s lunch at work. He was a blade maker, you know. That day, though, my mother was feeling restless, and she wanted to take a walk. Taking my father his lunch was as good an excuse as any, she said. Back in those days, the blade makers worked at the edge of the village because the dust from the bones would get in the air and never quite settle. 

“It was a good three miles from their home,” Hama continued. “My mother walked the whole way, and was planning to walk the whole way back, eight months pregnant and all. But when she had given my father his lunch and sat through his scolding, she only made it as far as the gate before her birthing pains started. My father wanted to take her back into the village where the midwives were, but my mother was in too much pain to make the trip. So my father sent one of the other blade makers to find someone. It should have taken an hour at most for the man to come back. He was only going three miles, and he was on a polar dog sledge. But an hour became two, and the other two men went to go see what happened to the first. So it was just my parents in the workshop. 

“After a while, there was no choice but for my mother to...well, push. So she did. She said my father looked as though he were going to faint several times, but he held himself together. Finally, my mother pushed one last time, and my father pulled me from inside of her. He cut my cord with one of the blades he had made himself, and wrapped me in the cleanest of the work rags. Then he put me in my mother’s arms and went to see what had kept the men and the midwife from coming back, and to bring the sledge for my mother and me. But he was gone for hours, too. In fact no one came for us until late into the night. One of the midwives came on her own polar dog to tell my mother what kept everyone.

Katara leaned forward breathlessly as Hama fell silent. 

“What kept them?” she whispered. 

“That night the Fire Nation attacked the Southern Tribe for the first time,” she said. “The men who had gone for help had to stay and fight. And when my father went for the sledge, he stayed to fight, too. Eventually the three men who had gone to find the midwife came back. But my father never did.” 

Katara gasped in horror. She didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t sure if Hama would want to be comforted or if she had told that story to shock Katara. Hama reached out and patted Katara’s hand. Then, holding onto the side of the cave, she pulled herself creakily to her feet. 

“I’ll start on dinner,” Hama said. Katara gaped at her as she shuffled inside the cave and lit the cook fire. 

  
  
  



	11. Chapter 11

**_Chapter 11_ **

The morning chores were done, and Hama wanted to take a nap. Katara decided to gather her clothes to take down to the lake. Hama never let her wash her clothes, for which Katara was grateful. At the ripe age of nineteen, Katara was well and truly sick of other people’s laundry. Her own, unfortunately, still needed to be done. 

She was half-way done with hanging her washing when she heard the crashing in the trees. Katara spun around trying to figure out where it was coming from. To her relief it seemed to be coming from the heavy woods and not the road from town, so it was unlikely that she and Hama had been discovered. A moment later, mooselion came crashing into the clearing. It pawed at the ground agitatedly and let out loud grunts and groans as it knocked it’s massive antlers into one tree, and then another. The noise startled Hama awake. She scrambled off of her cot as fast as her bone would allow, reaching for water from their wash basin. The same water that Katara was reaching for. 

“It’s mad,” Hama said, pulling half of the water into a long deadly looking spear. “Put it down quickly. Don’t let it close enough to bite you.” Katara noticed for the first time that the mooselion had a thick white foam around it’s lips. Her face set grimly. The kindest thing they could do for the animal was put it down quickly. 

  
Katara drew the rest of the water to her in a globe. The sunlight glinted off of the surface, startling the mooselion. With a loud bellow it charged at the two women before Katara could form her weapon. Hama threw her spear, but the mooselion twisted away at the last moment, and it only glanced off of one of its antlers. Katara tried to drive her own spear into its heart. It hit the creature’s chest, but it missed its true mark. The mooselion barely slowed down. Hama had reformed her spear in her hand, but the mooselion was too close now. It bore down on Hama, and Katara saw that she wouldn’t be able to move out of the way in time.

“Hama!’ she cried out, reaching for her teacher. The mooselion halted mid-stride, just as it was about to bite Hama. Its fright momentarily held it motionless, but it soon recovered and started struggling against Katara’s hold. Hama scrambled back and stared at Katara with wide, shocked eyes. 

“Its heart!” she managed to croak out. “Stop its heart!” Katara heard her through the throbbing pulse in her ears, and with all the strength she could muster, Katara squeezed the mooselion’s gigantic heart until it stopped. She released her hold on it and it collapsed to the ground a moment before Katara did. Her last coherent thought before darkness overtook her was that Hama wouldn’t be able to move the beast from the cave’s mouth alone.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Katara had been drunk once, and only once in her life. It was at her brother’s wedding, and Toph had challenged her and Zuko to some ridiculous game involving taking a shot of soju every time you lost the round. Katara had already been drinking wine that evening. She had also been very,  _ very _ bad at the game. She made it to three shots before she quit, but when she stood up, the room spun around and around so fast that she had to fall to her hands and knees to keep from spinning right off the ground. She remembered someone laughing about her being a lightweight and then being helped off the ground before she passed out. She woke up the next morning feeling nauseous, and exhausted, and as if she had been hit over the head with a mallet. That was how she felt on waking now. 

With a groan, Katara forced herself into a sitting position and looked around. She was on her cot, and the sun had set, but Katara couldn’t tell what time it was. Hama was hunched over the cook fire, and Katara’s mind sent her back to the night she arrived to find Hama in a similar position. The old woman looked back at her when she heard her groaning. She hobbled over with a steaming bowl of stew in her hands. 

“You need to eat something,” she said gruffly. Katara accepted the bowl without really registering that she had taken it. She wasn’t hungry, and truth be told, she was ready to go back to sleep. But Hama was insistent. “You’ve been out all day. You need to eat.” 

“Fine…” Katara sighed. She managed to power her way through half of her bowl before she gave up. It didn’t taste like anything, but she wasn’t sure if that was because she was too tired to taste it or if Hama’s cooking was just especially bland that evening. Hama gave up trying to get her to eat any more and guided her back down to her cot and tucked her in. Before sleep reclaimed her, Katara twisted her head to look at the mouth of the cave. The body of the mooselion was still there, covered with a tarp, but already beginning to draw flies. 

“I hope you’ll be up for helping me get rid of that tomorrow morning,” Hama said, following Katara’s gaze. 

“Yeah,” Katara mumbled. “It’s going to start to smell soon.” Hama grunted something in agreement. Then, hesitantly, she brushed some of Katara’s hair off of her forehead. Katara smiled at the sensation, almost imagining that she was back home with her grandmother taking care of her. 

“What you did today took serious strength,” Hama told her softly. Katara hummed in happy confusion. 

“What did I do?” she asked as she drifted off. Hama’s answer chased her into her dreams. 

“You bloodbent without the full moon.” 

It was past midday when Katara woke again. This time she was well enough to feel hungry. Hama gave her a bowl of what seemed to be the same stew from the night before.

“We need to move that thing,” Hama said, nodding towards the mooselion. “But even with two of us, I don’t know how we’re going to do it.” Katara set her bowl down and went to examine the carcass. Hama was right. It was taller than both of them combined, and it would weigh a solid half ton, easily. Beyond that, they would need to be careful of touching it and coming in contact with its bodily fluids, or with any ticks and fleas hiding in its fur. Hama had frozen the body, though, both to keep it from rotting too quickly and to kill off any parasites that had been drinking its infected blood. Katara sighed, already exhausted with the task ahead of them. 

“We’re going to have to burn it,” Katara told Hama. The old woman nodded solemnly. Maybe by creating an ice patch beneath it, they would be able to move the mooselion to a safe spot. Katara pressed her thumb into the corner between her nose and eye. 

“Are you feeling up to it?” Hama asked.    
  
“Enough,” Katara sighed. She had slept through the better part of the last twenty-four hours, but she still felt drained. Still, this task needed to be done, and she could get through it if she tried. Her eyes fell on the gory hole she had left in the thing’s chest and swallowed hard against the bile rising in her throat. 

“I’m impressed you were able to take down something this size,” Hama commented, coming up beside Katara. “Even  _ with _ the full moon, it would have been an accomplishment.” She turned her sharp eyes on Katara, sizing her up. “You are more powerful than I thought. And I already thought you were pretty strong to begin with.” Katara was surprised at the pride she felt at the compliment. It had been a while since she had felt ashamed of her ability, but this was something new completely. She was...excited! As excited as she had been when Pakku declared her master.

Katara and Hama did their best to dispose of the mooselion. The ice path method worked, and they were able to maneuver the carcass to the slope on the far side of the cave. They would wait until night to burn it, and Katara was confident that the mountain would hide the flames from the village. The darkness of the night concealed the smoke. It took them hours, but by morning, they had reduced the carcass to ash and bone fragments, which they were able to cover in dirt. After that, they both slept through the day.

The next day, Hama told Katara about the next step in her training.

“I want you to practice blood bending on me,” Hama announced when Katara finished going through her katas. Katara shook her head.

“It’s too difficult,” Katara said. “Without the full moon, I-”

“That’s  _ why  _ you practice,” Hama huffed impatiently. “This is like a new muscle that needs to be worked. Don’t worry. We’ll stop before you hurt yourself.” 

“What if I hurt  _ you _ ?” Katara had reason to be worried. When the mooselion attacked, her bloodbending had been unwieldy. She would have killed it even if she hadn’t wanted to. Hama was asking her to try it on a human body. Hama didn’t share Katara’s concerns, though. 

“I’ve got one foot in the grave,” she snorted. “If you kill me, you’ll just get to go home sooner.” Katara scowled at Hama. 

“Great,” she sneered. “Make jokes. It’s not like you’re the only one who can teach me about this or anything.” 

“ _ I _ can’t bloodbend without the full moon.” Hama shrugged. “Believe me, I’ve tried. You’re already beyond anything I could teach you. The best I can do for you now is to help you practice.”

“Hama, I don’t  _ want  _ to hurt you,” Katara said firmly. 

“So go slowly.” Hama reached out and took the bowl from Katara’s resisting hands. “You came to me because you wanted more control of your powers. Well, here’s another learning opportunity.”

“Hama-”

“Close your eyes,” Hama ordered in a tone that invited no arguments. “Reach out for my blood. Don’t try to do anything with it right now. Just feel for it.”

Katara took a deep breath and felt for the unique currents flowing through Hama. It took less time than she expected to find her pulse, but already Katara could feel the beginnings of a sharp pain behind her left eye. Her eyes snapped open and her chest heaved slightly from the exertion. Hama was watching her eagerly.

“Could you feel it?” she asked, leaning forward. Katara nodded, wiping sweat from her brow.

“I could feel it.” 

“Good.” Hama smiled slightly in approval. “Can you do anymore?” Katara took a shaky breath in. Her heart rate was almost normal, and the pain in her head- while still there- wasn’t unbearable. Finally, she nodded.

“Yeah. Let’s do it. ” Shutting her eyes, Katara felt for Hama’s pulse once more. It felt easier, but Katara sure if it wasn’t just her imagination. 

“Have you got it?” Hama asked. Katara nodded. 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” Hama took a deep breath. “Now, move my arm.” Katara’s eyes flew open. 

“Hama!” she yelped. 

“Do it!” Hama’s flinty tone startled Katara into obedience. She lifted her hands and found the pulse. Then she tugged. 

Nothing happened. Katara frowned, glancing nervously at Hama. The old woman nodded encouragingly. 

“Ok,” Katara said. “One more try.” She reached for Hama’s blood again. It flowed through her hold, alive and resistant in a way that water couldn’t match. Katara took a hold of it and flexed her hands…

“ _ Aaagh!” _ Hama’s pained shriek echoched off of the stone walls. She clutched her left arm to her chest. Katara gasped and scrambled over to Hama. 

“I’m so,  _ so _ sorry!” She took Hama’s arm in hers, a glowing globe of water already encasing her hand. 

“Stop that,” Hama shoved her back and shook her arm out. “I’m fine. Leave it alone.” Katara didn’t drop the water, but she didn’t try to take Hama’s arm again either. 

  
“I  _ told  _ you this was a bad idea,” she said. “I’m not ready to try this on people.” Hama waved her off. 

“Nonsense.” Hama stood up and hobbled over to the cook fire and bent some water into a teapot. “I saw what you did to that mooselion. You’ve already learned to control it better. You need to keep practicing.”

“I don’t want to practice on  _ you _ ,” Katara insisted. Hama eyed her for a moment, and then sighed. 

"Alright," she said at last. "I guess we can compromise on this. We need meat for the month. You can practice on animals to begin with and work your way up to me." This Katara agreed to readily. 

The next few days were spent getting a feel for Katara's strength. She and Hama went to the sheep-hogs' grazing ground and discovered quickly that the animals were a bit too large for Katara to take down just yet. She was only able to kill the moose-lion because of a rush of adrenaline. She was able to hold a sheep-hog in place and stop it from doing much more than squealing in distress. Hama had her practice on smaller animals instead. By the end of the week, Katara had gotten good enough to render the small traps she had set up unnecessary. By the end of the second week, Katara was able to take down one of the smaller sheep-hogs. During the third week, Hama talked Katara into trying bloodbending on her again.

"The full moon is close," Hama reasoned. "That should make it easier." 

"I don't want to risk hurting you," Katara said firmly. 

"So go slow!" Hama snapped back. "You're going to have to do it eventually." Still Katara refused, knowing that there was nothing Hama could do to force her. 

"Ungrateful little brat," Hama huffed. "I am freely offering myself to you as a test subject, and you want to turn me down because you're afraid?" Hama let out a derisive snort.

"I don't have enough control yet," Katara insisted. 

"That's a lie and you know it." Hama eyed Katara with her sharp eyed gaze. Katara folded her arms stubbornly. Let Hama hurl whatever insults she wanted. The two women stared each other down for a long silent stretch. 

Hama looked away first. She scowled and turned her gaze to the tree line.

"Just reach inside then," Hama said at last. "You don't have to poke or tug on anything. Just familiarize yourself with my veins. Then when you're ready you can give bloodbending a real try." It was an acceptable compromise, and Katara agreed to it. She waited until Hama had settled comfortably on her cot and held her hands out in front of her.

It was much easier to allow her awareness into Hama's body. Almost, but not quite as easy as during the full moon. Katara allowed her eyes to drift shut so she could concentrate on what she couldn't see. She frowned. The last couple of times Katara had done this with Hama, she hadn't been paying close attention. Although she had noticed something off about the way Hama's blood flowed through her body, Katara hadn't thought to look into why. Now she could  _ see _ the problem, for lack of a better description. Hama's veins were narrowed. There was something hardening inside them, especially around her heart and brain. Katara had never heard of anything like it in Yugoda's healing hut. Hama's heart was working hard to keep the blood circulating. It seemed...wrong. Katara didn't think that should be happening, but she wasn't sure why.

"Hama," Katara said. "Have your veins always had...stuff in them?" Hama had been on the edge of dozing. She started slightly at the sound of Katara's voice and blinked at her uncomprehendingly. Katara repeated her question.

"No-," Hama answered slowly, dragging out the word as she scratched her head. "I noticed it for the first time years ago. Don't really know what it is, but it hasn't bothered me." She shrugged. 

"Are you sure?" Katara's lips turned downward. "It doesn't  _ seem  _ right." Hama waved off Katara's concern. 

"I feel fine!" She stood up, groaning as her joints creaked. With a sardonic chuckle, she added, "Well, relatively fine, anyway."

Hama had Katara practice reaching into her veins everyday leading up to the full moon. In her spare time, Katara practiced looking into her own body, too. Her veins were clear from the hardening obstructions she had found in her teacher's, but she still didn't understand what it meant. She stored it away in her mind for further investigation. Maybe Yugoda had seen it before. In the meantime, as Hama had said, it didn't seem to be slowing the old woman down any. 

On the day of the full moon, Katara's fourth in the woods, Hama woke Katara early. Katara blinked up at her in confusion. Hama wasn't any more of an early riser than Katara was, but it was barely past Dawn. Hama shoved a bowl of watery congee into Katara's hands.

"You're going to bloodbend me today," she told Katara. 

“What?” Katara yelped. She only just avoided spilling her breakfast down her front. She set it aside and began to protest.

“You have the control now,” Hama cut her off. “And the full moon is tonight.”

“What if I hurt you again?” Katara asked. Hama snorted. 

“I’ve had far worse done to me on purpose than you could possibly do accidentally. Now,” Hama picked up her own meal and motioned for Katara to do the same, “eat up. We’ll get started afterwards.” 

“I won’t do it,” Katara declared. “You may not care if I hurt you, but  _ I _ do!” Hama looked up, eyes flashing angrily, and for a moment Katara thought she would try to slap her again. Instead, Hama let out a low, humorless chuckle. 

“You like to make everything about you, don’t you?” she said, shaking her head. 

“About  _ me? _ ” Katara folded her arms and scowled at the old woman. “My not wanting to hurt  _ you _ is somehow about  _ me? _ ” 

“Sure, sure.” Hama waved her hand carelessly at Katara. “You  _ think _ you’re looking out for my best interests, but did you ever consider what this means for  _ me _ ?” Katara’s face scrunched in confusion. 

“What do you-”

“You said yourself,  _ you _ are my legacy,” Hama told her. “You’re taking with you everything that I know, and part of that is bloodbending. I’m giving you the last days of my life to train you, but here you are, not allowing me to see what this technique-  _ my _ technique could be. I deserve to see at least part of it.  _ I _ want you to try it on me. That is  _ my _ choice, and I’m making it knowing the risks. Stop being so selfish!” 

Katara wanted to tell Hama she was wrong. That Katara wasn’t concerned about hurting Hama out of selfishness. But the truth was that Hama was right about at least one thing. Katara had come to Hama to learn. Eventually she would have to practice her bloodbending on a person, and Hama was volunteering for it. Katara held Hama’s gaze until her eye dried out and she had to blink. 

“Alright,” she relented at last. “I’ll do it.”

  
  
  
  
  



	12. Chapter 12

**_Chapter 12_ **

Once the decision had been made, it was surprisingly easy for Katara to bloodbend Hama. She expected jittering nerves and for her stomach to clench in fear as she lifted her hands into the bloodbending forms, but she didn’t. Her mind was calm, and her focus had shrunk to the severe woman in front of her. Hama nodded almost imperceptibly, and Katara took a deep breath. 

Hama’s eyes bulged as Katara took control of her limbs, though it was more from surprise than fear or pain. She had been blood bending for nearly all of her life, but she had only been on this end of it twice before, and only once for any extended time. This was the first time that Hama was really paying attention to what was happening to her. Suddenly, Katara’s earlier hesitance made sense. Hama’s blood kept flowing, but sluggishly. Her heart rate sped up, and breathing became harder. Still, she didn’t resist as Katara lifted her until only the tips of her toes connected to the ground. After a moment, Katara set her back down, and Hama leaned against a tree for support as she tried to catch her breath. 

“Are you ok?” Katara was at her side instantly, trying to see if she had caused any damage. Hama’s heart slowed to its normal speed and she swatted Katara’s hands away. 

“Get off of me, child!” she rasped. “I’m alright. I’m fine!” 

“I’m sorry,” Katara said, taking a step back. “I-”

“A body would think I was dying the way you’re carrying on.” Hama harrumphed irritably and hobbled over to the flat stone. She lowered herself gingerly, with a sigh of relief. Then she turned and regarded Katara with her piercing stare.

“Do you want some water?” Katara asked. 

“Spirits’ sake! I don’t want any water. Would you calm down?” Hama’s irritation was fading though. She nodded at Katara approvingly as she sat on the rock beside her. “Not bad. How did it feel?” 

“It was-” Katara paused, pulling at her lower lip as she tried to come up with an explanation. “Easy. I don’t know if it’s the full moon tonight, or the practice. It doesn’t take much out of me anymore, though.” Hama nodded again. 

“Good,” she said. “That means you’re getting stronger. Give me a couple of minutes, and we’ll go again.”

“Are you sure you’re up for it?” Katara’s voice was hesitant, but there was none of the protesting refusal behind it. Hama nodded. 

“Just once more,” she said. “Then I think I’m done for the day.” Hama shut her eyes against the sun and took a few deep breaths. Her heart was just about back to normal, and she discovered no lasting pain from the experience. Finally she opened her eyes and found Katara watching her thoughtfully. 

“What is it?” she asked her student. 

“I was just thinking,” Katara told her. “About the blockages in your veins. There’s a healer I know in the Northern Tribe. I was thinking about writing to her and asking if she knows what it might be.” 

“Bah!” Hama grunted. “What does it matter what it is? It’s not bothering me none.” 

“But it could be something serious,” Katara argued. “What’s the harm in at least finding out what it is? If you’re worried about me telling people you’re here, I won’t tell her who you are.” 

“You won’t tell her anything!” Hama declared. “Why does it matter to you so much?”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay, you stubborn mule-ox of a woman!” Katara shouted leaping to her feet. 

“Why?” Hama scowled up at Katara. Her joints wouldn’t allow her to leap to her feet. “Why do you want to bother? What if I am sick? What’s it mean except our bargain is done?”

“Because you’re my friend!” Katara snapped angrily. Hama’s mouth hung open, whatever comeback she had been about to make was forgotten. 

“Your friend am I?” she asked once she’d found her voice. 

“I’m as shocked as you are,” Katara shrugged. “But yeah. I suppose I do consider you a friend now.” Hama’s brow furrowed and she studied Katara before she shook her head and laughed. 

“How about that?” Then she laughed again. “You must be really desperate for companionship, girly.” 

“Yeah, I must be,” Katara agreed. She sighed and sat back down on the stone. Hama was still watching her carefully from the corner of her eye. 

“I don’t want you to write to your friend about me,” she said at last. “But… I’ll let you keep an eye on it yourself.” Katara turned to Hama in surprise.

“Huh?”

“You’re a trained healer, right?” Hama waited for Katara to nod. “Well then, consider me your patient now. It’ll be good practice for you anyway. You’ll learn all the nooks and crannies of the human body. Who knows? You might learn something useful about healing.” Katara considered her words, and then nodded slowly. 

“Alright then,” she said. “I’ll do it.” 

“Wonderful.” Hama grunted as she pushed herself to her feet and motioned for Katara to get up. “Once more. Only this time, I want you to make me walk.” 

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

The bloodbending training continued with a mixture of healing sessions and Hama having Katara experiment with defensive tactics. In a week, Katara had learned to identify the chi points in Hama’s body without touching her. In two, she managed to block Hama’s chi the way Ty Lee had done to Katara before. Katara also discovered that she could manipulate other bodily fluids. Like the small pockets of fluid in the ears which she found affected balance. Katara could use it to cause or cure vertigo. 

Hama was almost more excited about these new discoveries than Katara herself, even though the experiments themselves caused her more discomfort than she admitted. Katara took furious notes on what she learned, intent to share it with Yugoda, the healer from the Northern Tribe. Hama, meanwhile, lectured her on the combat applications of the new techniques. She was sure she wasn’t imagining the excited gleam in Katara’s eyes as the new possibilities were laid out for her.

In her letters, Katara shared her excitement with her friends through Zuko. Sokka expressed more happiness with Katara’s progress than she expected- which was honestly still not a lot- but the rest of her friends surprised her with their genuine curiosity and congratulations. Toph wanted to know if Katara could detect lies now, too. Katara made note to discuss the possibility with Hama, but she didn’t see why she wouldn’t be able to. Suki was very much on Hama’s train of thought and wanted to know about the potential for combat uses of Katara’s new powers. Zuko was just happy to hear that Katara was feeling more in control of her bending. Aang had still not been told what Katara had been up to. 

Over the nearly four months that Katara had been with Hama, Aang had cut almost all ties with his friends. The lack of contact had them all worried, but it wasn’t the first time that Aang had taken off without a word about where he was going or when he would be back. Still, he had never been gone this long without contacting anyone. Zuko joked that he would have to hunt him down again. Katara was starting to think that might not be such a bad idea. But her fears- and frankly her anger- over Aang’s extended absence didn’t stop her desire to continue learning. 

Through all of this, Hama’s nightmares still continued. They didn’t happen as often as when Katara had first arrived, but Katara still woke to Hama’s anguished cries in the middle of the night at least once a week. She woke Hama each time, though now she knew better than to pry. She gave Hama a cup of water, and told her stories of growing up in the Southern Tribe, and of travelling with her friends to end the war. She even told the old woman a few stories about Zuko- the ones where he came off looking a bit foolish, but still kind. Hama seemed to enjoy them, even the ones about the Fire Lord, though she never actually said so. She hadn’t opened up since telling Katara the story of the day she was born, but the younger woman had hopes. 

At just over five months since Katara found Hama, the aging master was ready to declare Katara the most powerful waterbending master in the world. 

“And how many master waterbenders have you met?” Katara asked with a laugh. 

“How many master waterbenders can chi block?” Hama countered. Katara didn’t have an answer. 

The peace of Katara’s existence remained undisturbed until Sokka’s next letter arrived. 

Katara reread Sokka’s letter three times, but still the facts didn’t feel any more real. Had she really been with Hama for half a year already? Was it really already time for the yearly celebration of the end of the war? Was it really almost her birthday? According to Sokka it was. Katara decided almost immediately that she would be skipping the celebration both of the end of the war and her birthday this year. She didn’t think Hama would try to stop her from going, and Katara  _ did  _ want to go. But Hama’s bones had been bothering her more lately. And Katara had noticed a concerning stutter in the old woman’s heart during her healing sessions. Katara’s friends were hoping to see her, but it didn’t feel right leaving Hama alone. 

“I have been alone longer than you’ve been alive,” Hama snorted when Katara mentioned her hesitation to leave. “I don’t care if I die alone. As long as you come back to give me my final rites, you can leave when you want to. As if  _ I  _ could stop you.”

Still, Katara wrote back to her brother to let him know not to expect her at the celebration. The fact that this was one event that Aang might actually show up to was beside the point. The celebration would take about two weeks, and Katara didn’t want to have to explain to the leaders of the world why she had been missing for almost six months, or why she would inevitably have to leave early. Her time with Hama was a secret. Her new abilities were  _ her _ secret until she was ready to share with the rest of the world.

Of course that didn’t thrill Sokka. He had Zuko send his sealed reply. It had one line. 

  
  


_ If you’re not coming to see us in Caldera, we’re going to come to you. _

It was a promise, and Katara didn’t try to dissuade him. Hama wasn’t excited at the idea, but she conceded that there wasn’t anything she could do to stop Katara. As long as she promised to keep her friends away from the cave, Hama wouldn’t complain about Katara spending a few days in the village. So, with her master’s begrudging blessing, Katara officially invited her friends to stay with her at Zinan’s inn. Zuko replied first, promising to have Iroh keep an eye on things so he could join them. But the end of his letter bore news that sent Katara’s heart to her toes. 

_ Aang finally got in touch. He’ll be coming with us. _


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

After half a year with no contact, Katara was finally going to face Aang for the first time since their break up. Katara wasn’t sure what to say to him. She wasn’t sure if she was still angry with him, or if he was angry with her. She didn’t even know if he knew why she was even here. 

“Why let him come at all?” Hama asked when Katara tried to talk with her about it the day before her friends arrived. “You already have enough people coming to see you. Why invite someone you don’t want to see.”

“But I do-” Katara started to protest, but Hama cut her off impetuously. 

“If you really wanted to see him, you wouldn’t feel this conflicted about it,” she said. “That you’re even coming to me for advice tells me you wish he wasn’t coming. You already know my stance on it.” 

“Well…” Katara hesitated. Hama was right. Katara had already known what she would say. Still seeing Aang felt like taking medicine. She wasn’t looking forward to it, but she knew that if their friendship was to have any chance of surviving, they would have to have to do this part eventually. And she did want their friendship to survive. 

“Do whatever you like,” Hama told her. “Just don’t bring any of them here.”

“They’re all too afraid of you to come,” Katara replied. Hama smiled wickedly at that. 

“Good. See that it stays that way.” 

The pair was silent for a moment as they sat at the mouth of the cave watching the sunset. There was a new moon that night, and Hama didn’t seem to be in the mood to do much but sit. She also seemed to be on the edge of saying something, but Katara was learning to let her take her time about it. She pretended not to notice Hama gearing up, until the old woman suddenly got to her feet and hobbled into the cave. 

“Hama?” Katara called after her. “What are you-”

“Hush, you impetuous child!” Hama snapped. She rummaged in the area over her cooking fire, and then around her sleeping mat. When she came back to the cave opening, she held an old glass bottle in one hand and a crudely wrapped box in the other. The box she handed to Katara. 

“What’s this?” Katara asked, accepting the package. Hama huffed irritably and motioned for Katara to open it. 

“You’ve been yammering about your birthday for a week now,” Hama grumbled. “I figured you wouldn’t be happy if I didn’t get you something.” Katara wasn’t fooled. She had mentioned her birthday once, a week earlier when she told Hama why she would be staying in town the next few days. Still, she was touched that her teacher had remembered. 

Katara turned her attention to the box. She was surprised that Hama had been able to get her anything. She never left the cave, and Katara assumed that Hama had made her something while she slept or did chores. She wasn’t expecting the intricately beaded belt that lay inside. It was Southern Tribe craftsmanship. Katara recognized it immediately, although it had been decades since anyone had made anything like it. In awe, Katara ran her fingers over the brightly colored beads sewn into the familiar shapes of her homeland. Here was a blackfish. In another square, a polar dog howled at a full moon. They were there in beads in all the shades of blue and brown and white and red and green that Katara knew from her dreams and memories. Her throat closed tightly around a sudden lump. 

“Hama, I-” Katara’s voice caught, and she cleared her throat to try again. “This is...It’s beautiful.” Hama harrumphed and shifted uncomfortably. 

“It’s the only thing I managed to keep a hold on all these years,” she told Katara. “I made it with my mother when I was a girl.The idea was I was to wear it on my wedding day,” Hama snorted derisively. ‘It’s not the best example of the art, but I thought you may as well have it.”

“Hama, it’s beautiful,” Katara said. “I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s nothing,” Hama insisted gruffly. “I just wanted to give you something. You know, as a sort of thank you for sticking around an old biddy like me. I know it’s not been the easiest time.”

“It’s been great,” Katara assured Hama. The old woman scowled at her. 

“Don’t interrupt me!” she scolded Katara. “This may be the last bit of sentiment I have in me to express. Let me finish.” Katara ducked her head contritely, hiding a smile.

“Sorry.”

“Anyway, I...I expected to die alone,” Hama continued, turning her gaze out over the hillside. “Then you showed up and...Well, it wasn’t the worst thing to ever happen in my life. I’m glad I’m not alone anymore.” Katara was quiet for a long moment. When Hama chanced to look up at her, she found her student watching her with teary eyes. Then suddenly, she sprang at Hama, drawing her arms tightly around her smaller, wiry frame in a hug. 

“Thank you, Hama,” she whispered. Hama brought her hand up and patted Katara’s arm uncomfortably. 

“Well,” she said. “Well, I think that’s enough of that. We’ve had enough of this weepy nonsense for a lifetime.” Katara squeezed Hama once more and let her go. Hama straightened up her shift and wiped away a suspicious wetness from her face. She reached down beside her and pulled up the old bottle. 

“What’s that?” Katara asked, although she was sure she already knew. Hama raised the corked top to her mouth and used her teeth to unstop it. 

“This,” Hama told her, “is the first occasion I’ve had in a long time worth celebrating. We’re going to do it right. Go grab us some cups.” 

.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Katara began preparing for her friends’ arrival immediately the next morning. She left Hama with enough supplies for her absence, despite the old woman’s protests that she could handle herself. Then she went to town and booked rooms for her and her friends, and commissioned the innkeeper to get her some clothes that hadn’t seen six months’ hard use in the wilderness. Zinan, for his part, was more than happy to assist his best, and most mysterious patron. For four rooms and a couple changes of clean and serviceable clothes, Katara handed over two gold pieces. Had she asked, Zinan would have let Katara reserve the entire inn and bought her the finest silk the local merchant had to offer. But that would have caused people to talk, and Zinan understood that what his best patron was really paying for was his silence. So he gave Katara the entire top floor, and had his wife find her a couple of sturdy cotton yukatas, one in dark red, and the other a rich dark brown. He also promised to serve her company himself, to keep too many prying eyes away from them. He didn’t even need to be asked. 

The night before Katara's friends arrived, she stayed at the inn. It was her first time in a proper bed in months, and she had surprised herself at how much she had missed the comfort of a warm bath and a soft mattress. Still, as lovely as the bed felt, sleep eluded her. Katara wasn't sure if she believed in premonitions anymore, but she couldn't shake the feeling of a storm brewing.

The next night killed any doubt Zinan held about Katara being a woman of importance. Aside from his brief stint in the Fire Nation army, he had lived his entire life in Hino, but he could still identify his Fire Lord on sight, even in plain clothes and without his crown. The fact that he had arrived on the Avatar's flying bison was also a clue. But it was clear to the innkeeper that all of his illustrious guests wanted their stay to be kept quiet. So with much bowing and scraping, but with very few words, Zinan led Katara’s guests to her suite and backed out of the room, shutting the door tightly. 

In the short silence that followed, Katara's eyes scanned her friends, until at last they landed on Aang. He was grinning at her a bit sheepishly, but clearly happy to see her. She didn't know how she would feel when she saw him again, but she wasn't expecting the lack of any feeling at all. It was the sort of empty detachment that Katara had often felt after witnessing some atrocity of war or other, but she hadn’t thought it would happen now, not after having six months to process her break up with Aang.

But then, she reflected, she hadn’t really been processing her break up, had she? In all the time Katara had spent, she had really only thought about Aang a few times, and most of it was after she knew he was coming. Until this moment, seeing him again had been an abstract thought. One she wouldn’t have to wrestle with for a while. Except now here he was, and Katara had no idea what to say to him.

Fortunately for Katara, her friends' arrival was once again raucous enough to make up for any inexplicable silences. And soon Katara's joy over the reunion overtook any feeling or lack of feeling about Aang. Once they settled down enough, Katara led them to the spread that Zinan had laid out in her suite. 

Dinner was eerily like the night that Aang had proposed to her. Katara couldn’t bring herself to directly engage with Aang, and the entire time, his eyes hardly left her. Although she was reasonably certain that Aang would’t dare try to propose again after all this time, Katara couldn’t help the nervous flutter in her stomach, but the meal was mercifully short. It had been a long trip for most of them, and exhaustion claimed them one by one. As they drifted towards their rooms for the night, Katara felt tension she hadn’t even been aware of, bleed from her shoulders. She sighed in relief as she poured herself another cup of tea.

“Long day?” Katara flinched at the sound of Zuko’s voice behind her, spilling tea down her shirt. 

“How do you manage to miss all the creaky floorboards?” she asked with a faint scowl. She pulled the tea from her shirt and into one of the dirty cups from dinner. Zuko came around where she could see him, smirking slightly, and settled on the chair across from her. 

“I didn’t,” he told her. “You should pay better attention to your surroundings.” 

“I do!” Katara insisted. Her cheeks flushed under his scrutiny. “Normally. I was just... distracted.”

“That’s obvious,” Zuko snorted. He poured himself a cup of tea, but he winced when he took a sip. “How can you drink this cold?” 

“It’s not so bad if you sweeten it,” Katara shrugged. “And it tastes better if it’s actually cold and not just room temperature.” Zuko favored her with a skeptical brow. In his hand, his cup began to steam. 

“Don’t ever let Uncle hear you say that,” he warned Katara. “He might disown you.” 

“Spirits forbid.” Katara chuckled. The two sat in silence for a few moments, enjoying the tea and the peace. Eventually Zinan came back to clear the dishes, bowing deeply to Zuko and backing out with his loaded tray. 

“He’s going to be fun after this,” Katara commented when Zinan had gone. “I hope he doesn’t get too curious about what I’m actually doing here.” 

“He had a long conversation with Aang about the virtues of meditation retreats,” Zuko told her. “I think your cover is safe.” The mention of Aang was like a signal. The companionable silence became heavier suddenly. Katara was aware of the concern in Zuko’s eyes. 

“It wasn’t as bad I thought it would be,” Katara told him. “Seeing him again. I mean, I wish it hadn’t felt so weird, but I guess that’s going to have to go away with time.”

“I guess,” Zuko murmured. Katara peered at him curiously.

“Was it this awkward when you saw Mai for the first time after your breakup?” she asked. Zuko paused mid-sip and blinked at her owlishly.

“I haven’t spoken to Mai since we broke up,” he admitted. “And I’ve only seen her a few times from afar. She and I...it’s not like with you and Aang. We didn’t really have a friendship to try to go back to.”

“Oh.” Katara turned her gaze to her cup, feeling disappointed. “Here I was hoping you’d have some words of wisdom for me about getting through this part. You’re the only other one of us who’s broken up with someone.”

“Sorry,” Zuko shook his head sadly with a smirk playing at the edge of his lips. “You’re going to have blaze this trail yourself. But I’m here as support.” 

“Thanks,” Katara chuckled sarcastically. She reached out and ruffled Zuko’s hair. “That means a lot from you, Fire Lord Sparky.” 

“Any time, Master Sugar Queen.” Zuko was fully grinning now as he reached out and tweaked Katara’s nose. Katara shoved his hand away, trying not to wake anyone with her laughter. She had missed this. She had grown to like Hama well enough, but she missed being silly with her friends. 

“I don’t know what to do, though,” Katara confessed. “I know it’s ridiculous to think that everything would go back to the way it was before we started dating, but I had hoped…”

“You two can’t go back to that,” Zuko agreed. “Neither of you is exactly the same person you were five years ago. You’re going to have to learn how to be friends again.”

“But I don’t know how.” Katara shrugged helplessly. Zuko shifted in his seat so he was facing her. He studied her for a long moment before he responded. 

“Have you thought about how you feel?” he asked. Katara looked up sharply. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean that in all your letters, you only mentioned Aang maybe once or twice to ask if anyone had heard from him,” Zuko said. “Have you processed how you feel about him? About the break up?” 

Katara felt her face heat up. What Zuko had just said was unnervingly close to what Katara had thought when she saw Aang that evening. 

“You do that, you know,” Zuko told her. “You bottle things up so you don’t have to process them. You did it with me. You did it with your mom. I get that you needed time and space to think, but you eventually have to actually let yourself think about it.” Katara bristled for a moment, the ghosts of her old hurts rising to the surface, but she deflated immediately. She hated to say it, but Zuko had a point. Hadn’t she stayed with Aang for years because she bottled up how she really felt about their relationship?

“I’m mad at him,” Katara admitted quietly. Zuko nodded, encouraging her to continue. “I’m really angry about how he acted at the summit. I...I think I’m over our breakup, and I do want to be friends again, but he...he was such a jerk.”

“Okay,” Zuko said. “That’s fair. What now?” Katara chewed on her lips and thought for a while. Soon, though, it was clear what she needed to do.

“I can’t keep ignoring Aang,” she said at last with a sigh. Zuko stared for a moment before deciding not to pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about. Everyone had noticed how weird things were between Katra and Aang. Possibly even Aang. 

“No,” he agreed. “You can’t.” 

“Alright!” Katara stood up and nodded once, determinedly. “Tomorrow, I will have a conversation with him. We’re adults, after all. We should be able to handle this maturely.” She glanced down to see Zuko watching her looking amused. She arched her brow at him, daring him to laugh at her. He held his hands up placatingly.

“Hey, I believe in you,” he said. “And I have your back. If you want, I can give you a list of icebreakers.” 

‘Icebreakers from you?” Katara scoffed, walking towards her room. “I’ve known you for five years, Zuko. I know what your idea of small talk is. But I will come to you if I need jokes that you forgot the punchline to.” She paused at the doorway, grinning at Zuko to let him know she was kidding. “Good night.”

.*.*.*.*.*.*.

The next morning, Katara did just as she told Zuko she would do. Over breakfast, she asked Aang about what he had been doing since the summit ended. All of their friends seemed startled at the question, but Aang’s face lit up like Caldera during the Festival of Lanterns. 

“Lots of traveling,” Aang told Katara. “I’ve been in the Earth Kingdom mostly. I spent a few weeks in Omashu with Bumi.”

“Oh!” Katara with genuine gladness. “He’s feeling better then?”

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Aang said quickly. “I mean, he didn’t want to ride the mail chutes with me, but he let me take Flopsie out around town.”

“How fun!” Toph grumbled. “Why show up to stop a possible civil war in the ex-colonies when you can ride some old dude’s pet gorilla goat?” Aang winced at the accusation in her tone. 

“Toph, I said I’m-”

  
“Sorry doesn’t fix everything, Aang,” Toph snapped. Aang’s shoulders drooped defeatedly. For a moment, Katara thought he might cry. 

“I really am sorry,” he insisted. “I got your letter late.”

“If you had been where you were supposed to be-” Toph took a deep breath and shook her head in disgust. “Whatever. Go ahead, finish telling everyone all about your vacation.” Aang seemed reluctant to finish his story, and Katara looked between them in confusion. She had heard about the clash between the Fire Nation colonists and the Earth Kingdom citizens in Boseong, but Zuko had assured her that it had been taken care of. The look on Toph’s face seemed to belie that, though. She was about to probe further, but Aang found his voice again.

“I’ve been with Guru Pathik for about the last month,” Aang told Katara. “We meditated for the entire first week straight.”

“Well,” Katara’s mouth stretched into what she hoped resembled a smile. “That sounds-” Katara struggled to find an appropriate adjective. Aang spared her the trouble, however.

“It was really great,” he said. His exuberance had been dulled after Toph’s outburst, and his voice sounded a bit forced. “Oh, but you know how much good meditation can do. Especially now, right?” Katara shook her head. 

“I still have to take your word for it, I’m afraid,” she told him. “I haven’t done that much meditating lately.” Aang’s mouth turned down slightly in confusion. 

“But I thought….I mean Zinan said you were meditating in the mountains?” he said. Katara exchanged weary glances with her friends. Seriously, none of them thought to fill Aang in on why she was there?

“There wasn’t really time to explain,” Suki told her. “We had just arrived in the Fire Nation and then we had to leave to get here. We slept almost the whole trip here.”

“What do you mean?” Aang asked. “You didn’t come here to meditate? So why are you here?”

“Well, maybe if you had been in touch with anyone, you’d already know,” Toph said snidely. Katara shot her a useless warning glare, then turned back to Aang.

“I haven’t been meditating,” Katara explained simply. “That was my cover story. I’ve been training-”

“Why would you need a cover story for that?” Aang asked, making a face. “Zinan seems cool. I’m sure he wouldn’t care that you’re a waterbender.”

  
“The story wasn’t for my sake,” Katara told him. “I’ve been training with Hama, and she doesn’t want the villagers coming to bother her. Aang-?”

Aang had gone pale. He sat rod straight, mouth agape, staring at Katara as if she had just admitted to murdering civilians. Everyone at the table stared at him, waiting for his response. Even Toph was waiting curiously. Katara sighed and shook her head. 

“I didn’t really mean for you to find out this way,” she said. “Sokka wasn’t thrilled at first either, but I made him promise not to tell anyone where I’d gone until after the summit. I guess you had already left by then-”

“You all knew what she was doing?” Aang’s voice was oddly flat. It was jarring coming from the usually cheerful young man. 

“Well, yeah,” Sokka said, shrugging. “I wouldn’t have let her just leave and not tell anyone where she was. Zuko helped her track the old bat down.”

“And we wanted to come see if Sugar Queen had really gotten as good as she said in her letters,” Toph added. “Apparently, I’m not the only human lie detector anymore.” Aang’s eyes flew up to Katara full of stormy fury. 

“You’ve been bloodbending!” He stood, shaking in anger. “You came all the way out here to learn bloodbending?” 

Katara did not like his tone. It was far too authoritative and accusatory. She met his glare with an ice cold one of her own. What business was it of his what she had spent her time doing?

“I have been learning bloodbending,” she told him. “Hama’s taught me how to control it. And I’ve mastered Southern style bending, too.” Aang shook his head. 

“No,” he said. That caught Katara off guard. She looked around at her friends and found them as mystified as she was. 

“No?” she repeated. “No, what?”

“Bloodbending,” Aang forced out through his clenched teeth. “How could you? You of all people know how evil bloodbending is.” And there it was. Katara rolled her eyes and leaned back into her seat, arms folded across her chest. 

“It’s not evil,” she told him. “It’s just another form of waterbending.” 

“How can you say that?” Aang demanded. The breeze picked up subtly, stirring the napkins and drapes. “How can you say bloodbending isn’t evil after you saw what Hama did? Why isn’t she still in jail?” 

Katara was trying to find patience with Aang. This was a lot to dump on him at once. After all, hadn’t Katara herself thought that bloodbending was inherently evil not that long ago? She just needed to help Aang understand what she had come to know. 

“Bloodbending isn’t evil,” Katara explained levelly. “It can be used to do harm, but it can be used for good, too. I’m learning so much about the human body, and I’m already planning to talk to Yugoda about possibly using it for healing.”

“You can’t!” Aang shook his head forcefully. “I don’t know what Hama’s talked you into, but no good can come from bloodbending.”

“Haven’t you listened to a word I said?” Katara stood now, bearing down on Aang. “There’s a lot of potential good that can come from bloodbending. I already know more about how blood keeps the body alive than I ever learned in the healing huts-”

“You’ve been bloodbending people?” Aang’s eyes widened in horror. 

“Only Hama,” Katara told him. “With her permission.”

“Aang, calm down,” Sokka said. “This isn’t that big a deal.” Aang’s furious gaze fell on him next. 

“You’ve been bloodbent,” Aang reminded him. “Did you forget how horrible that felt? She almost killed us, Sokka!” 

“Yeah, and we’ve almost been killed with earth and firebending too,” Sokka reminded him. “And by arrow, and sword, and...and food poisoning! You want to unilaterally declare those things evil, too?”

“All forms of bending have the potential to hurt,” Zuko chimed in. “It’s not bending that’s evil, it’s how you use it.” 

Aang shook his head violently and began pacing the room. Around him, his friends exchanged confused looks. Katara had expected some disapproval from all her friends about her coming to learn from Hama. They all knew Katara’s history with her, and had rightfully been dubious about her learning from a person who had been jailed for torture. But Katara couldn’t fathom Aang’s reaction. Especially not after Katara had been with Hama for so long and was fine. 

Finally, Aang stopped walking and stared at Katara for a long moment. Then, without another word, he spun on his heels and left.


	14. Chapter 14

**_Chapter 14_ **

  
  


Aang didn’t come back that morning. He still hadn’t shown up after dinner either. Katara and her friends talked around him so much, that his absence became almost a physical entity in itself. 

“We still need to get packed,” Sokka said after Zinan had cleared the dinner dishes. “We should get that out of the way so we can have tonight to hang out. We can load up Appa, and...” Sokka’s voice trailed off and he winced. 

“We can do that,” Suki assured her husband. “Appa’s still in the stable.” 

“I know. I was just...you know” Sokka stammered around the subject of Aang while gesturing towards his empty seat. 

“This wasn’t how I pictured this trip going,” Katara sighed. 

‘I know.” Sokka patted her shoulder sympathetically. “Some birthday, huh?”

“It could have gone better.” Katara shrugged and found a wide smile. “But I’m really glad to see you all. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed you.”

“Why don’t you come back with us?” Sokka suggested. “You’ve mastered everything Hama had to teach you. Dad misses you, too. And Gran Gran. Even Pakku misses you...a little.” Katara thought longingly of her home. She had exchanged letters with the rest of her family along with her friends, and they understood why she had been gone for so long. Still this was the longest she had gone without seeing her father and grandparents since the war had ended. 

“I can’t,” Katara sighed at last. “I promised Hama I’d give her her last rites.” 

“That could be  _ years _ !” Toph pointed out. “She’s only around your grandma’s age, right? Meanwhile, King Bumi is almost 120 years old. At that rate _ you’ll _ be an old lady by the time Hama goes to the Big Ice Field.” 

“I’m sure she could spare you for a few weeks,” Suki pressed. “I mean, she’s been alone all this time. You don’t want to miss my first Winter Solstice, do you?” Katara shrugged. 

“I can talk to her about it,” she said, though she still wasn’t sure it was a good idea. Katara had been examining the strange hardness inside Hama’s heart. She still didn’t know what it was, but it troubled her. And it made her think that maybe Hama didn’t have as many years left as Bumi. 

“Okay, it’s getting  _ way _ too serious in here,” Toph announced. “We need a distraction. And I know  _ just  _ the thing.”

“I don’t like that look on your face,” Zuko groaned. Toph flashed him a slightly malevolent grin.

“I was just thinking that Katara should give us a demonstration of what she’s been learning,” she said. “Go on, Sugar Queen. Impress us!” Katara felt her cheeks flush. 

“I don’t know…” she hemmed. “It’s really invasive.”

“I’m volunteering!” Toph insisted. “You have my permission, or whatever. Do you want me to sign a form?” 

“Go for it, Katara!” Sokka cheered her on. “You’ve been here for half a year. Now’s your chance to show us it was worth it.” Zuko and Suki added their encouragement as well, and Katara decided that she did want to show her friends what she had accomplished. 

Toph, ever the boldest and true to her word, stepped up to assist Katara with her demonstration. The room grew quiet as Katara lifted her hands in front of her. Nothing happened for a moment, and then…

“Woah!” Toph gasped as her arms flew out to her sides. 

“Don’t fight me,” Katara instructed her. “It’ll make this more uncomfortable.” Then Katara took a breath and moved her hands slightly. Toph began to walk stiffly around the room. 

“This is so weird!” Toph exclaimed. “Guys, I’m not doing anything!” 

“That’s incredible!” Suki leaned forward, her eyes sharp. “Can you do that to more than one person at a time?” 

Katara froze at the question. So did Toph. Absently, Katara released her hold on her friend’s body, and Toph wandered, slightly dazed, to her seat. 

“I don’t know,” Katara said. “I’ve never tried. There’s only Hama to practice on. I know  _ she _ can bend at least two people at once, though.” 

“Can you try it now?” Suki asked. “You can use me.” Toph shook her head.

“Not me,” she said. “I need a break. Maybe later.” 

“You can try it on me,” Zuko offered. Katara bit back a grin and quirked her brow at him. 

“Won’t that cause some sort of international incident?” 

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Zuko shrugged. “I trust you.” 

“It’s not like it hurts or anything,” Toph assured Katara . “It just feels weird if you’re not used to it.”

Katara looked between Zuko and Suki analytically. It should be possible for her to bloodbend multiple people at once. She often had to focus on more than one thing at a time in regular bending, too. But bloodbending was different. Even when the person she was using it on was willing, there was still instinctive resistance. One on one, Katara could work around that resistance in order to not hurt her subject. If she wasn’t concerned with hurting them- like when she was hunting- the resistance wasn’t an obstacle at all. Controlling two people at once, two people that she cared deeply about, was an entirely different matter. She would have to move slowly. 

“Let me know if I’m hurting you,” Katara said as she took her position again. 

At first nothing happened. Katara’s friends watched curiously as she shut her eyes and concentrated. The difficulty was that part of bloodbending was finding the pattern in who or whatever Katara was trying to control, and every living thing had its own unique pattern. Then, once Katara had tentatively felt her way through Suki and Zuko’s patterns, she had to split her focus. But she managed to do it in less than a minute, and without the benefit of Hama’s instruction. 

“Woah!” The gasp slipped past Zuko’s lips involuntarily as Katara lifted him and Suki to their tip toes. 

“I  _ know _ , right?” Toph nodded. Sokka shuddered a bit, remembering the last time he had been on the business end of this particular move. Still, there was a small, proud smile on his lips watching his little sister march Suki and Zuko around the room. 

“Okay,” he said. He took a deep breath and stood up. “Try it on me now.”

“What?” Katara asked distractedly. Sokka shot her a challenging smirk and hit his chest with his fist. 

“Threesies!” he declared. “I bet you can’t!”

“Ooh!” Toph jumped up besides Sokka. “Foursies! I’m ready to try it again.” Katara had dropped her hold on Zuko and Suki, and they all watched Katara expectantly. She wasn’t sure it would work, and she was beginning to get tired from the exertion. It would be so much easier if she had the added boost of the full moon. Still, she was just as curious to see if she could do it. 

“Alright,” she agreed. “Give me a moment.” 

It took longer than a moment. Bending four people at once strained Katara’s focus and coordination. It felt a bit like trying to pat her head and rub her stomach while also walking a tightrope. But eventually, she managed to find her grip. Four gasps suddenly sounded as Katara lifted her friends to their tiptoes. Her muscles were beginning to tremble slightly with the exertion, but Katara was doing it. She was bloodbending four people at once. She waited a moment to make sure she had a firm hold on everyone, and then she marched them around the perimeter of the room.

“This feels so wrong!” Sokka chuckled nervously. Katara just grinned in reply. She couldn’t do anything else. Soon she would have to stop, but for the moment she made her brother twirl on his toes while she continued marching the others around the room like toy soldiers. Between her intense focus, and her friends’ captivation with the sensation of being bloodbent, no one heard the footsteps coming up the stairs. No one heard the door swinging open. But the loud gasp was impossible to ignore. 

Katara dropped her arms, releasing her friends and spun around to find Aang in the doorway staring in horror at her. Panting slightly from her exertion, Katara managed to raise her hand in a sort of awkward half-wave. 

“Where have you been?” Sokka demanded. He shook his arms out, trying to get rid of the pins and needles feeling. 

“What were you  _ doing? _ ” Aang’s voice was low, and quaking in anger. Katara stood up tall and defiant, scowling at his tone. 

“A demonstration,” she told him coldly. 

“You were bloodbending?” Aang’s fury was almost palpable. The air almost crackled with it. 

“Yes.”

“ _ With _ our permission,” Sokka added hastily, putting himself between his sister and Aang. “We all agreed to it.”

“And no one got hurt,” Toph said. “So unbunch your panties, Aang.”

“That’s  _ not _ the point!” Aang glared at his friends before his eyes landed on his ex-girlfriend. It was as if he had never seen her before. Something had changed in her since he had last seen her. Something had hardened in her gaze. Where there was once gentle nurturing was a new ferocity. Or maybe it wasn’t new, Aang reflected. He remembered seeing it before during the war. When Katara had faced Zuko in battle. When she had gone to find Yon Rah. But he hadn’t seen it since then. She had never been that way with him. 

“You’re changing,” Aang said, shaking his head slowly. “You’re being corrupted by this, and you don’t even see it.”

“What are you talking about?” Suki asked. “Katara hasn’t done anything wrong. We all volunteered for this.” 

“Then you’re all blind!” Aang squared his shoulders up and glared at Katara. All of his friends-  _ their _ friends- had aligned themselves on her side. Five against one. Being the Avatar often meant going against the popular opinion, though. Aang just never guessed that he would one day stand against the people he cared for most in the world.

“You don’t get to dictate how I use my bending, Aang,” Katara told him coldly. “If you don’t like it, fine, but I don’t answer to you. I deserve to know the extent of my power as much as any bender.” 

“Don’t you see!” Aang was suddenly pleading. “This isn’t you, Katara. You’re too kind and gentle and...and...caring for this. You aren’t like Hama.”

“You don’t even know Hama!” Katara snapped. “She isn’t evil!”

“She hurt all of those people!” Aang reminded her. “She used her bloodbending and she left them to rot under that mountain!” 

“And  _ she _ was left to rot!” Katara’s fists clenched tightly at her sides. “Hama was wrong for what she did, but she  _ doesn’t  _ deserve to be demonized and forgotten! And just because she used bloodbending to hurt people, it doesn’t mean that bloodbending is wrong or evil! And you know what else? I am  _ good _ at it! I am better than Hama at it, and I am  _ proud _ !” 

“I’m proud, too!” Sokka said. “I’m proud that my sister is the world’s strongest waterbender. I won’t let you ruin it for her because of your judgemental nonsense.” 

Aang’s face pinched tightly, and he shut his eyes, taking in one deep breath. Then another. Then another.

“Bloodbending,” Aang said at last, “is different from other bending.” 

“Really?” Toph drawled. “Why? Because it can be used to kill? Hey, Twinkle Toes! If I chuck a boulder at a guy, he’s just as dead. Zuko’s right. Bending isn’t good or evil. People are. And Katara would  _ never  _ hurt anyone for no reason. Why are you freaking out?”

“ _ Bloodbending is different _ ,” Aang roared. His friends recoiled in shock. Before they could recover, Aang plowed on. “Don’t you see? It isn’t like throwing a rock at someone, or firebending at them. You and Zuko can’t reach inside someone and...and… It’s different!”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Sokka cut in, holding his hands in a time out sign. “Don’t you do the same thing basically with your energy bending? Isn’t that what you did to Ozai? How is that okay, but bloodbending is evil?”

“I’m the Avatar!” Aang drew up and held himself stiffly. “I’m responsible for keeping balance in the world. I’m the only one who can energy bend, and I only use it when I have to.” 

“When Hama dies,  _ I’ll _ be the only bloodbender!” Katara countered. “And  _ I’ll _ only use it when I have to.” 

“ _ You _ aren’t the Avatar.” Aang glared at Katara so heatedly that she instinctively fell into a defensive position. Aang didn’t attack, though. He met her gaze, his grey eyes hardened in resolve. 

“The bloodbending stops now,” Aang warned her. “I’m forbidding it, as Avatar.”

“ _ Excuse _ me?” Katara wasn’t sure if she was more confused or furious at his words. “You don’t have the right to forbid anything! Being Avatar doesn’t make you the dictator of the world.”

“Being Avatar means I have the authority to do anything I have to in order to keep the world in balance!”

“She isn’t disturbing the balance!” Zuko cried. “Just because she’s learning a technique  _ you  _ don’t like doesn’t mean it’s a threat to the world! And may I remind you that this is still the Fire Nation? You don’t have the right to outlaw anything without talking to me first.”

“And I  _ dare  _ you to try that in the Water Tribes,” Sokka added. “You need to calm down, Aang. You’re saying a lot of things you’re going to regret later.”

“The only thing I regret is not seeing this coming sooner!” Aang shouted. He jabbed a finger violently in Zuko’s direction. “All this time I was worried about  _ him _ going evil, but apparently my  _ girlfriend _ is the one on a powertrip! I should have realized it when you went after Yon Rah. I never wanted to believe there was darkness in you, but I was wrong.”

“Woah,” Toph gasped. 

“I am  _ not  _ your girlfriend anymore.” Katara’s jaw was clenched as tightly as her fists. “And I haven’t done  _ anything  _ wrong.”

“Aang, you’re not thinking clearly,” Suki warned. “Seriously, go take another walk and calm down. You’re not doing yourself or anyone else any good right now.” Aang ignored her and crossed the room to Katara. 

“If you keep bloodbending,” he told her, “I’ll take your bending away for good.” Katara reeled back as if he had slapped her. 

“ _ What- _ ?” she hissed.

“Out of line, Aang!” Sokka pushed Aang away from her. 

“ _ You  _ don’t get to tell me what’s out of line!” Aang shoved Sokka back . He spun back around to Katara “All these years you’ve all been telling me to take my role as Avatar seriously. Well, now I  _ am _ . I won’t let you become another threat like Ozai and Sozin.” 

“That’s enough!” Zuko snatched Aang up by his collar and shook him. As tall as Aang had gotten over the years, Zuko was still taller by some inches, and in his anger, he had Aang’s toes dangling off the ground. It happened too fast for Aang to react.

“Let go-!”

“You listen to me,” Zuko growled, shaking Aang. “I grew up with Ozai. I knew his cruelty in a way you could never understand.  _ Katara _ is  _ nothing _ like that man. Or Sozin. If you  _ ever _ insult her like that again, I’ll knock the stupid out of you myself!” 

With that Zuko released his grip on Aang. The younger boy crumpled to the ground in a heap. No one moved to help him up as he scrambled to his feet. When he righted himself, all of his friends had put themselves between him and Katara. Still, he could see her glowering at him between Suki and Zuko’s shoulders. He huffed angrily as he stormed out of the room. This wasn’t the end of this, he vowed to himself. He knew his duty. 

  
  



	15. Chapter 15

**_Chapter 15_ **

Katara sat in a daze. In the back of her mind she knew she should do something- _say_ something- but she couldn’t think of anything except the look in Aang’s eyes when he threatened to take her bending. She was too shocked to be angry. Too confused to decide what to do next. 

“Are you okay?” Katara turned from where she was staring out of the window to find Suki standing next to her. 

“I am,” she said automatically.

“You sure?” Suki pressed. Katara mentally shook herself from the haze she had been lost in and smiled at her sister-in-law.

“I am,” she said with much more conviction. “I just wasn’t expecting him to react that way.”

“None of us were.” Zuko shook his head in disappointment. “I don’t know what got into him.”

“I kind of get it,” Sokka admitted. “The first time Hama used bloodbending on us was...traumatic. But what Aang said...do you think he’d actually take your bending?”

“Not unless he wants to fight all of us,” Toph said darkly. Her friends turned to look at her in surprise, and Toph snorted. “What? Like any of us would just stand by and let him do that to Katara?” There was a moment’s pause before a murmur of agreement rippled through the room. 

“He’ll be fine once he’s had some time to calm down,” Katara assured her friends. “This is Aang we’re talking about.” 

“Yeah, we know,” Sokka said uncertainly. “Still...maybe don’t be alone with him for a while.” 

“Ha!” Katara laughed bitterly. “Not a problem. _Believe_ me.” Katara was furious with Aang, and it would be a long time before she would be able to speak to him civilly. 

There was still the problem of what to do next. Aang was gone, and it didn’t seem he would be returning that evening. This time he had taken Appa. The others still had to leave the next day for Caldera, but Aang had been their ride. 

“I’m sure Zinan can lend you some ostrich horses,” Katara said. “Or mongoose lizards.” 

“It’ll be tight,” Zuko sighed. “I’ll have to send word to Uncle that we might be late. But we’ll make it back.”

“I’ll ask Zinan to get Kilgik ready.” Katara pressed a thumb into the corner of her eye. There was a headache beginning just where her eye met her sinus. A product of slightly overextending herself by bloodbending, and the fight with Aang. 

“We’ll have to leave early tomorrow morning,” Sokka told his friends. “Even if we are able to get mongoose lizards, we won’t get there as fast as with Appa.” 

“Great…” Katara bit down hard on her lip to stop herself from crying. This was _not_ how she wanted to spend her twentieth birthday. But her friends had to be back in Caldera more than she needed them to stay. She took a breath and swallowed hard.

‘I’ll go talk to Zinan,” she offered. “You should all go get ready.” They all dispersed with that. Suki and Sokka to their room, Toph to hers. Katara headed for the staircase, with Zuko right behind her.

“Wait,’ he said. “I’ll come with you.”

“You don’t have to,” Katara told him. “Don’t you have to pack, too?” Zuko shrugged. 

“I never broke that navy habit of packing light,” he explained. “I don’t really have much _to_ pack. Besides, I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Katara opened her mouth to say she was fine again, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she took a shaky breath and buried her face in her hands.

“Everything is such a mess,” she said. “I just wanted to…” Katara wasn’t sure how to finish her thought. She just wanted to learn how to control her bending. She just wanted to spend a few days with her friends. She just wanted her and Aang to go back to the way they were before they started dating. 

She felt Zuko’s cautious hands clutch her shoulders. Then he pulled her forward into a hug. After a moment, Katara wrapped her arms around him and hid her face in his shoulder. She wasn’t crying, but she gulped down air as if she had been drowning. 

“It’s going to be fine,” Zuko murmured into her hair. Katara nodded, not trusting her voice just then. Finally, and reluctantly, Katara disentangled herself from Zuko. There was still work to be done. 

Zinan was still in his office when Katara and Zuko found him. He was irritated when the door opened suddenly, but any scolding he was preparing died on his lips when he saw his best patron and...one of her guests enter. Knowing that he wasn’t supposed to officially recognize his Fire Lord, Zinan stood in an awkward half-bow to them both. 

“Your High-” Zinan stopped and cleared his throat, then began again. “My honored guests! How may I be of service?”

“Hi, Zinan,” Katara greeted him. “My friends need transportation home. You’ve been so helpful to me these past few months, and I know you can help them.” Zinan stood up from his desk, his spine straight and stiff as if he were a freshly starched and ironed shirt. 

“I am your willing servant,” he said solemnly. “Tell me what you need.”

“Can you get us at least two mongoose lizards by tomorrow morning?” Zuko asked. “We have to be in Caldera before tomorrow evening. We can pay you five gold pieces for each one.” Zinan would have fallen over if it weren’t for his grip on his desk at the price. If he were able to get four mounts, he would stand to make half a year’s earnings in one day. 

“I can make that happen for you, Sir,” he swore to the scarred young man. “I can have five mounts for you immediately.”

“I’m not leaving, Zinan,” Katara told him. “They need four at most.”

“Oh!” Zinan blinked in surprise. “I thought… It’s just that five of you arrived, and I was under the impression that the...that your other companion would be back as soon as he had a chance to see the place where you’ve been meditating, my lady.” Zinan bowed shallowly to Katara. 

“What?” Katara asked. Her brow furrowed. “He told you where he was going?” 

“Not so explicitly, “ Zinan explained. “He came by about an hour ago asking if I knew the place where you’ve been staying. Of course, I couldn’t tell him anything more than that I had seen you walking south through the woods.” Katara felt her heart sink into her stomach. She turned to Zuko and clutched at the hem of his shirt. 

“You don’t think…?” She couldn’t finish her unfathomable thought, but even as she began her question, she knew. She never thought Aang would carry through on his threat to take _her_ bending. But he didn’t have the connection to Hama that he had with Katara. If he thought Hama was to blame for what he saw as Katara’s fall from grace…

“I have to go,” Katara told Zuko. He caught her hand as she turned. 

“Wait,” he said. Katara pulled against his hold.

“I _have_ to go!” she told him. “I’m all she has!” Zuko still clung to her hand. 

“She has us, too,” he promised. “She has us because _you_ have us. We’ll go with you.” Zinan looked from Zuko to Katara in confusion. His policy with his guests was to give them what they paid for, and these guests had paid for his lack of curiosity. But now he had questions. 

“Who-” he began hesitantly. But then Zuko reached for his belt and pulled out a small bag of coins. 

“It’s all yours,” he told Zinan. “ _If_ you can get us the mongoose lizards _now_. And if you keep quiet about this.” Zinan nodded, leaning towards the bag held just out of reach. Zuko leaned away. He had meant what he said. 

“I can promise no one will know of this visit from _me_ ,” Zinan swore to the pair. Zuko studied him for a moment. Finally, he lay the bag of gold on Zinan’s desk. 

“It is important that no one know anything about this,” he warned Zinan. “I’m paying you ahead, but if this gets out, there will be consequences.” 

“My lips are sealed, Sir.” Zinan eyed the bag hungrily. Just the size of it told him that it was worth more than he could hope to see in two years. For that kind of stability for his business and family, he would agree to almost anything. 

With a satisfied nod, Zuko turned and followed Katara out of the office. They raced up the stairs as Zinan hurried from his office to get their mounts. Katara burst into the sitting room and called for her friends.

“What happened?” Sokka asked frantically. His alarm grew when he saw the look on his sister’s face. 

“Aang’s going after Hama,” Katara explained. “I have to go stop him.”

“We’re going, too,” Sokka didn’t hesitate. Zuko nodded in agreement. 

“Zinan is already getting us mongoose lizards,” he said. “Let’s go.” 

As he had promised, there were five mounts waiting for them, but Zinan had only managed to saddle two, and was trying to prepare the third. Impatiently, Suki brushed him aside and finished it himself. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said in a tone that invited no protest. “We need to go immediately. We’ll be fine with three for now.” Zinan stepped aside and let Suki work. With a few swift moves, she had expertly secured the saddle and swung upon it. Sokka clambered on behind her. The next mongoose held Katara and Zuko, and Toph sat herself on the last and smallest one. Katara took the lead and spurred her mount out of the inn’s barnyard and through the trees. 

Hama would have to move again, Katara thought distantly. She wouldn’t like it, but even with Katara paying Zinan for his silence, this night’s events would eventually get out. Someone would eventually get curious enough to see who was living in the woods outside of town. Hama would be upset, and maybe she wouldn’t want Katara to stay with her after all. But none of that mattered as long as Katara was able to stop Aang and save her teacher from losing her bending, or worse. 

The ride up to the cave was mercifully short, and Katara could see the glow of Hama’s campfire. She brought her mongoose lizard to a skidding halt at the bottom of the hill. The same place Jun had left her all those months ago. 

“Hama!” She called frantically, racing up the hillside. “ _Hama_!” 

“What _is_ the matter, child?” Hama hobbled out of the cave at the sound of Katara’s cries. Katara threw her arms around the old woman and heaved a sigh of relief. Hama patted her arms hesitantly. Then she stiffened in Katara’s hold, and Katara knew that Hama had seen her friends. 

“I _told_ you not to bring them here!” Hama hissed, shoving Katara away. 

“I know, and I’m sorry,” Katara replied. “But we have to get you out of here _now_.” Katara pulled on Hama’s hands, trying to get her to follow. Hama resisted. 

“I’m not going anywhere!” she growled. She glared at Katara’s friends, her burning stare lingering on Zuko. “Let go of me!”

“Please, Hama!” Katara kept tugging at Hama’s hands, tightening her grip as she pleaded. “You have to listen to me. You’re in danger.” 

“In danger of what?” Hama demanded. She fought against Katara with all of her wiry strength. “ _You_ brought the only danger I see. Have you decided to have me arrested again after all?” 

“No, Hama, of course not!” Katara was near tears now. 

“No one is here to hurt you, Hama,” Sokka walked up to her cautiously, as if fearful of her attacking him although the moon wasn’t full that night. “But Katara is right, we need to get you someplace safe, before-”

Sokka was cut off by a sudden blast of wind. It wasn’t strong enough to knock any of them off of their feet, but it was enough to send them stumbling away from Katara and Hama. Aang landed in the space he had cleared. Somewhere overhead, Appa let out a low rolling bellow. 

“Get away from here, Aang,” Katara put herself between Hama, and glowered at the young Avatar.

“She needs to be stopped, Katara,” Aang said grimly. “Stand aside.” 

“She hasn’t done anything!” Katara shouted. “If you hurt her I will _never_ forgive you!” Aang’s eyes widened and he took a step back in shock. His gaze softened longingly at Katara for a moment. But only a moment. With a deep breath, he allowed his resolve to harden inside of him. 

“I’m sorry, Katara,” he said, his voice flat. “I can’t allow her to continue what she’s doing. If she could corrupt _you_ , then there’s no telling what else she’ll do. What she’s already done.”   
  


“Spirits’ sake, Aang!” Katara tugged at her hair in aggravation. “She hasn’t _corrupted_ me. She taught me how to use my powers.” 

“What?” Hama gasped from behind Katara. “All this nonsense for _that_ ? You want to _kill_ me for teaching the girl bloodbending?” 

“I’m not going to kill you,” Aang told her firmly but not unkindly. 

“He wants to take your bending,” Katara told Hama. Hama stiffened at that, and turned her furious, almost feral glare on to Aang. 

“Never!” she hissed. 

“Aang, you need to let this go,” Zuko came up behind Aang and put his hand on his shoulder. Aang, perhaps remembering the last time he was in Zuko’s grasp, shook him off roughly. 

“I _need_ to put an end to Hama’s evil!” Aang snapped. “Those were _your_ people she kidnapped and imprisoned in that mountain. Do you _want_ to see Katara end up like _her_?”

Katara felt heat rise into her face and chest. How _dare_ Aang? How dare he judge Hama. He didn’t know what she had been through, or the nightmares and scars that she still carried with her. Katara wanted to grab Aang and shake him until he came to his senses. But she had to get Hama out of there. While Aang and Zuko argued, she nudged Hama towards the path around the side of the cave. The one that led to the clearing where they burned the mad moose lion. Sokka and Suki noticed their retreat, but kept silent. Unfortunately, Aang noticed before they could make it all the way around the bend. His face twisted into a scowl and he stomped on the ground, raising a thick, earthen wall behind the pair. 

“This is going too far, Aang!” Katara warned him. 

“I’m doing my duty as the Avatar!” he shouted. 

“You aren’t the judge and jury of the entire world!”

“I was charged with keeping the balance.” Aang took a step towards them. “If I have to lose you to do it, then so be it.” He took another step forward when the earth rumbled around his feet and swallowed him to his thighs.

“Toph!” he yelped, squirming uselessly. “Let me go!”

“No!” Toph stormed over angrily, bending up more earth around his arms. “This ends now, Aang.” She stomped her foot and the wall behind Hama and Katara flattened into the dirt path again. “Get the old broad out of here. We’ll hold Aang.”

“No!” Aang shouted. Sokka brought a mongoose lizard over and helped Katara lift Hama onto the saddle. 

“I don’t want to leave!” Hama protested, struggling against their hold. “This is _my_ home!”

“We have to get you away, Hama!” Katara insisted. 

“No!” Hama cried. 

“ **_NO_ **!” Aang roared. Suddenly, his arrow tattoos lit up, and his eyes began to glow. With another cry of rage, the earth around him exploded. The force of it knocked everyone in the clearing off their feet. Hama let out a cry as her hip erupted in sharp, agonizing pain. Her injury went almost unnoticed, though. Everyone’s attention was on the Avatar hovering several feet in the air. Wind whipped around the clearing, making it nearly impossible to stand. 

Katara had been here before. Several times. Back then she would reach out to Aang, pull him into her arms, and whisper soothingly into his ears. His ascents into the Avatar State, while frightening and undeniably dangerous, had never felt like attacks to her. This was different. Instead of wanting to approach Aang, she wanted to gather her friends and escape. Aang tore up chunks of earth and they spun around him joining the swirling air. Then a stream of water called up from somewhere, and then flame until Aang was surrounded by a protective ball of elements. Katara reached out for a source of water, and she saw Toph and Zuko- whose hands were now engulfed in flames- fall into battle positions. Katara was sure they knew as well as she did that it would probably be futile to try to fight Aang like this, but she was equally sure that they would try if they had to. 

“Stop this, Aang!” Katara screamed over the roaring of the wind. “Stop it! You’re going to hurt us!” 

“She cannot be allowed to continue!” Aang said in a thousand voices at once. 

“Aang, I’m warning you!” Katara struggled to find her footing and raise her hands at the familiar angles. She wasn’t sure if it were possible to chi block an Avatar in the Avatar State, but she had to try. 

“You don’t understand,” Aang’s voices filled the air in the most disorienting way. “I will do what I have to in order to keep the bal-”

**_“ENOUGH!”_ ** Aang was cut off suddenly by a frighteningly booming voice. Abruptly, he came out of the Avatar State and tumbled to the ground, the chunks of earth crashing down around him. For a moment, the only sound in the clearing was Hama’s low moaning behind Katara. The others stared at him for a moment. Katara took a hesitant step towards him, but he sat up, shaking his head and staring at his hands in confusion. 

“What-?” he whispered to himself. 

All heads turned towards the mouth of Hama’s cave where a tall, willowy woman stood. The front of her head was shaved, revealing a glowing blue arrow tattoo. She wore the yellow robes of an airbender, which seemed to billow and flow in a non-existent wind. It was Avatar Yangchen. Aang gaped up at her with a stunned, almost hurt expression on his face.

“Avatar Aang,” Yangchen addressed the young boy sternly. 

“What did you do?” Aang demanded. He scrambled to his feet and seemed to falter between anger, confusion, and fear. “Why did you pull me out of the Avatar State?” Yangchen’s mouth was set in a disapproving frown. 

“You are on the edge of a dangerous abuse of power,” Yangchen told him. “I was allowed to intervene before you cause irreparable harm to the world.” 

“ _Abuse of power_?” Aang shook his head. “I wasn’t abusing my power! I was doing my duty as the Avatar. Bloodbending cannot be allowed-”

“Bending should not be given significance beyond itself,” Yangchen interrupted. “It is _not_ your duty as Avatar to police anyone’s use of bending, save when it threatens the balance of the world and spirit worlds. Let the nations decide for themselves what limits to place on benders. That is _not_ your concern.” A sudden chill brought the temperature in the clearing down drastically. They all shivered in Yangchen’s cold disapproval. Aang stared up at her, shaking his head slightly. 

“I was just trying-” he started to explain. His voice caught and his eyes flickered over to Katara. “I just wanted to protect…” Yangchen’s face softened from stern righteous anger into something more like compassionate exasperation.

“Young Aang,” she sighed. “That you care for your friend is admirable. But you are trying to take away a decision that belongs to her alone. The path you are straying towards- what you were planning to do here tonight- will have far worse consequences for the world than bloodbending. We are Avatars, Aang. We are _not_ gods to decide on people’s fates.” 

Aang hung his head low in shame. 

“I don’t...I don’t understand,” he whispered. “I wanted to do the right thing, but…” 

“I know you believe that,” Katara spoke up suddenly. Aang’s head snapped towards where she still placed herself between him and Hama. Beyond her, Aang could see Sokka trying to soothe the injured old woman, and he winced. “I know you believe you wanted to do the right thing, but how can you possibly know what the right thing is? I tried- we _all_ tried to tell you what Yangchen just said, but you didn’t _listen_ , Aang. You _never_ listen!” Aang’s mouth opened and closed. He tried to find words in his defense, but nothing came out. 

“You cannot do your duty to the world without understanding that yours isn’t the only perspective,” Yangchen told Aang. “You must learn to accept wisdom from others. You must learn to be selfless in your duties." The ancient Avatar stood up tall, and her face hardened once more into a stern mask. “Until you prove yourself capable of that, you will not be able to enter the Avatar State.” 

“What?” Aang gasped. “But you can’t-” Yangchen didn’t give him a chance to protest. In a blast of wind and light, she disappeared, leaving the clearing eerily silent. Aang stared at the spot where she stood, uncomprehendingly. 

“Katara,” Sokka called his sister gently. “I don’t think Hama is doing well.” Katara spun around and found Hama on the ground, clutching her chest and panting. Her face was an alarming ashen color, even in the dim light of the crescent moon. Katara dropped to her knees at her mentor’s side. 

“Hama, can you hear me?” The waterskin at her side burst open as she called up the water to surround her hands. Hama just let out a low moan of pain as Katara swept her glowing hands over Hama’s body. She found a broken hip bone and an irregularity in Hama’s heart. With a gasp, Katara dropped the healing water and plunged her awareness into Hama’s bloodstream. 

“What are you doing?” Aang gasped. 

“Let her work!” Toph snapped. Katara ignored them both. She felt along the now familiar passageways of Hama’s heart, and she found it. The odd hardening in the chambers had grown worse. A chunk had come loose from the wall of the organ, and was stopping the blood from moving freely. Katara didn’t know exactly how to fix it- there was so much of the build-up that she wasn’t even sure that she could push the bit that had broken off through the rest of Hama’s heart. Still she tried her best. 

“Oooh…” Hama moaned miserably. “Let it go, child.” 

“Hama, you’ll die!” Katara told her. “I have to try. You just have to let me try, alright.” Hama reached up weakly and pushed Katara’s hands away. Her withered old hands were cold and clammy against Katara’s skin. 

“It’s okay,” she gasped. “It’s okay. I’m ready.”

“No, Hama,” Katara’s voice was thick with tears. “Not like this. I can help you. _Please_ let me help you.” Hama tried to shake her head. She clutched for Katara’s hands shakily. 

“You helped….” Hama’s breathing was growing labored, and speaking was becoming difficult. “I don’t have to die alone. Hold my hand while I go.” Sobbing, Katara grasped Hama’s hand with both of hers, squeezing tightly, as if she could hold Hama’s spirit to her body. 

“ _Pleasepleaseplease,_ ” she whispered, begging for she something she couldn’t name. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. There was still so much of Hama’s story she didn’t know. So much that she didn’t get a chance to tell her. 

“I’m glad…” Hama gasped weakly. “I’m happy I don’t have to go alone…” Katara nodded, and swallowed hard against her tears. 

“I’m right here,” she swore. “I won’t leave.” 

“Good, sweet, strong girl.” Hama’s mouth widened into a slow smile. “You are more of a fighter than I ever was…”

“You gave me _everything_ ,” Katara whispered feverishly, desperate to tell Hama everything she would never get a chance to say. “I will never forget you. And I will always be grateful to you, you stubborn mule-ox of a woman. I’ll make sure that all of the Southern Tribe knows your name. Thank you so, so much, Hama.” 

Hama’s breath rattled in her chest. She smiled up at Katara, bringing up a hand towards her tearstained face. She didn’t make it. 

“Hama?” Katara watched as the life faded from Hama’s eyes. The hand she had been reaching up to Katara's face dropped limply on to her chest. With one final sigh, Hama was gone. 

Katara stared down at the still form that was once her teacher and friend for a long time. She could feel the eyes of her friends on her, but she didn’t have the energy to acknowledge them. Behind her she heard someone shifting forward. 

“Katara…?” Aang called out gently. Timidly. 

“Go away.” The words escaped Katara before she had even realized she had thought them. 

“Katara, I’m sorry,” he said. Katara whirled on him, her eyes ablaze with fury.

“I said _leave_!” 

“You should go, Aang,” Suki told him firmly. Aang stumbled back, clutching his glider. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again, taking another step back. “I didn’t mean to… She wasn’t supposed to die.” Katara reached out for the water she had dropped and lashed out at Aang with a water whip. He managed to dodge her, snapping open his glider, and with one last forlorn look at his friends, he took off into the night.

“Hey, Katara,’ Sokka slid an arm around his sister’s shoulders and pulled her into an embrace. “Are you okay.” Katara squeezed Sokka tightly. She missed Hama already. She missed her as much as she had missed her brother and her grandmother. Katara sobbed miserably onto Sokka’s shoulder. After a moment she felt someone embrace her from behind. Toph it felt like. Then another pair of arms wrapped around her and another, until Katara was weeping in the middle of a knot of her friends. 

“I have to give her her rites,” Katara said hoarsely when her tears finally slowed. 

  
“We’ll help you,” Sokka promised. Slowly the group untangled themselves from one another, though Sokka’s arm remained draped over Katara’s shoulders, and Zuko’s hand clasped hers. 

“What do you need?” Suki asked. Katara took a deep breath, avoiding looking at the cooling corpse on the ground.

“I need stones,” Katara said. “Enough to cover her with.”

“Done.” Toph stood up and set about gathering stones. Katara cleared her throat

“I need to wash the body,” she explained. 

“I can go down to that lake and get some water,” Sokka stood up and started to rush down towards the lake, only to stop short and spin back around. 

“There’s a pot inside the cave,” Katara sighed. With an embarrassed chuckle, Sokka went to go find the vessel. Suki watched her husband with a fond gleam before turning back to Katara. 

“What else do you need?” she asked. Katara stole a glance at Hama before turning back to Suki and Zuko, her shoulders squared determinedly. 

“I think we should get her back inside,” she said. “And...and she needs a shroud.”

“Okay.” Zuko and Suki stood, reaching their hands out to help Katara up. Hama was a small, light woman, and Zuko was able to easily scoop her into his arms and carry her up to the cave alone. He started a fire while Suki helped Katara remove Hama’s tattered clothing. When Sokka came back, he put the pot on the fire to warm up, then he and Zuko set to gathering rags and any bit of cloth that could be used as a shroud. Eventually, Toph came back, leaving a pile of brick-shaped stones at the entrance of the cave. 

Suki and Katara worked silently. They started at opposite ends of Hama’s body; Suki at her feet, and Katara at her head. She washed Hama’s hair with the last of her homemade soap. Hama had intended to make more when Katara returned to help. Now there was no need. 

A soft sob escaped Katara’s lips. Her friends tensed up, ready to surround her again, but Katara kept working, gently scrubbing Hama’s face, and neck and shoulders. When she and Suki finished, the others came forward to help wrap the body in the blankets and sheep-hog’s wool that had served as Katara and Hama’s beds. It was nearly daybreak by then, but there was still work to do.

Katara didn’t want to leave Hama’s body in the cave where it might be disturbed. Sokka and Zuko lay Hama on a wooden pallet and Katara led them to the path leading behind the cave, where they had burned the mooselion. Toph brought the bricks, and together, they piled them around Hama. By the time Katara placed the last stone over Hama’s face, she was crying again, but softly. She knelt by the grave and prayed silently. Her friends stood watch over her and waited. 

“ _Their eyes watch over,_ ” Katara sang. Her voice was shaky and low at first, but it grew stronger as she went on, rising to a clear, mournful alto.

_Their voices guide,_

_Ancestors sing wisdom from the past_

_Reminders of dark days,_

_Songs of hope for the light_

_The promise of dawn_

_The world set right_

_One day we’ll join them_

_We’ll reunite_

_Until then, the ancestors watch_

_They watch by day_

_They watch by night_

  
  
  
  
  



	16. Chapter 16

**_Chapter 16_ **

It was immediately clear that Aang was desperate to make amends. He left Appa at the inn to take the others back to Caldera, promising to find his own way back, according to the note he left with Zinan. He also said that he knew that his friends wouldn’t want to see him then, but he hoped they would forgive him in time. 

Katara wanted to leave for home immediately, but Sokka didn’t want her to travel alone, and Katara didn’t have the strength to argue with him. So it was decided that she would return to Caldera with the others, but secretly. She refused to join the celebrations while Aang was there. Fortunately, the palace’s eastern wing was reserved for the royal family and special visitors. Katara was taken to her usual room, and Zuko had his most trusted servants attend her under strict orders of secrecy. Aang was sleeping in the biggest room in the wing saved for general guests. If anyone thought it was strange that the Avatar was suddenly being housed in the guest wing, they didn't say anything about it.

For the first week, Katara was content to stay in her room, or the common area, or the private garden, but her grief began to lighten after a few days. She missed Hama, but soon she began to crave more company than just her own thoughts and austere servants. Her friends sat with her as often as they could, but they were often too busy or tired to spend much time with her. She couldn’t bring herself to venture out and join the festivities in the rest of the palace, either. Not with Aang still there. She wasn’t sure when- if ever- she would be able to see him again without the cold weight of rage in her stomach, but it certainly wasn’t then. If he knew she was staying in the palace, then it seemed he at least knew well enough to stay clear of her. 

By the middle of the second week, Katara was feeling well enough to begin making plans and even to be excited by them. She sent letters to her father and grandmother and Pakku. She sent one to Yugoda in the Northern Tribe, too. Then she found a calendar and started marking dates. 

Two days after Katara began her planning, her friends came back from the day’s festivities with good news. After sticking around the celebrations for long enough to avoid stirring up concerns, Aang was leaving the Fire Nation early. 

“You can come to the last day of the Peace Festival!” Sokka told her happily. “Aang’s leaving in the morning. He...um...he wanted me to tell you he’s sorry.” Katara bit down on her tongue hard when Sokka delivered that message. Her friends were still angry with Aang, but it was already apparent to Katara that they would forgive him long before she was ready to. She didn’t hold it against them, honestly. They didn’t know Hama the way she had, and they didn’t believe he would ever actually try to take _Katara’s_ bending. 

Katara wasn’t as sure about that. Had Yangchen not intervened, Katara wasn’t sure that Aang wouldn’t eventually follow through with his threat to take her power. He never had liked it when she proved herself unable or unwilling to conform to his ideal of her, after all. 

Sokka was waiting for a reply, Katara realized suddenly. She wasn’t sure how long she had been lost in thought but going by Sokka, it seemed like it had been too long. Her brother was watching her, his glee visibly dimmer. Katara took a deep breath and found a smile for him. 

“That sounds great,” she said. “I’d love to go to the party.” It was mostly not a lie, although the thought of making small talk with nobles who didn’t realize she was grieving gave Katara serious pause. 

“I told everyone that you've been working on a cultural reconstruction project,” Sokka told her. “As far as anyone knows, you’ve spent the last few months on a research project into Southern Water Tribe history. I figured it was close enough to the truth.” Sokka shrugged nervously. “And since it’s the last day of the festival, most people will probably be too drunk to bug you about it.” 

Katara stared at Sokka for a moment, and then for the first time since she got back to Caldera, she threw her head back and laughed. She was still laughing when she pulled her brother into a bear hug and squeezed tightly. 

“I’ve missed you so much!” she said through tears of mirth. Sokka patted her head and after a moment pulled away. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled. He was glad to see his sister laughing, though. “Anyway, you should figure out what you’re going to wear. Everything you brought back with you smells like outside.” 

Katara’s friends snuck away from the festivities as soon as they were sure they wouldn’t be missed. They arrived at her room laden with food from the party, and updates on Aang’s departure that Katara didn’t ask for. 

“I’m still irritated with Aang,” Toph admitted. “But the world does still need an Avatar. Wherever he’s going, I hope he gets it together quick.”

“He said he’s going to find Guru Pathik,” Sokka said. “Aang thinks he might be able to help him figure out how to enter the Avatar State again.”

“Great,” Katara mumbled, taking a swig from her cup of punch. “I hope he has a nice long visit.” Her tone made it clear that she wasn’t in the mood to talk about Aang anymore. 

“What are you going to wear tomorrow?” Suki asked, changing the subject abruptly. 

“No idea,” Katara said. “But Sokka said everyone’s going to be too drunk tomorrow to pay attention to me anyway.”

“We have some of your formal clothes in storage,” Zuko said. “I can have someone bring them to you so you can pick something.”

“Thanks, Zuko,” Katara sighed. She didn’t care one way or the other what she wore to the party, but maybe she would the next day. “Anyway, I want to hear about what’s been going on with you guys. What were you doing while I was gone?”

The group stayed up into the early hours of the morning catching up. As Katara listened to her friends’ stories and laughed along with them, she felt a bit more of her grief lessen. 

.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Katara stood in front of the mirror, fidgeting nervously with her sleeves. As promised, Zuko had sent her a trunk of clothes she had worn to the last few formal events she had attended in the Fire Nation. She wound up choosing the first one her hands had touched. It was a simple but elegant pale blue silk kimono with cream edging. She was supposed to wear it at the last banquet of the Summit, but…

Katara’s hands came up to her waist. She hadn’t consciously decided to wear Hama’s belt, but once she fastened it over the kimono, she liked the way they looked together. Traditional Fire Nation style mixed with traditional Southern Tribe. Hama would have hated it, Katara thought with a small smile, but Katara liked the way they blended. It was almost as if they were supposed to be worn together. She removed the dark blue obi that went with the kimono and adjusted the beaded belt so that the long end hung down to her knees. She wondered if her grandmother knew how to do this kind of embroidery and beadwork and if she would have time to teach Katara.

Zuko was on the landing leading away from the private royal quarters when Katara finally made her way to the party. He seemed startled to see her, and Katara was as surprised to see him. The party had started an hour earlier.

“Hey, Katara!” he greeted her. “I...ah...wasn’t sure you were ready to head down. Wow, you look beau...you look _great_ ! Not that don’t you usually…” Zuko brought his palm to his face and shook his head. Katara bit her lips and tried not to laugh. Over the last five years, Zuko had become a confident, occasionally even charming young ruler, but every so often, he was overcome by the awkwardness that plagued him through his teen years. Katara lost her fight against her laughter. 

“Zuko, are you okay?” She gasped, trying to gather herself. 

“I’m fine,” Zuko groaned. “I just...can we start over? Hi, Katara.”

“Hi, Zuko.” Katara had managed to stop laughing, but she was still grinning widely. 

“You look lovely this evening.” He gave her a deep, formal bow. 

“Have you been taking lessons from Iroh?” Katara asked. “Because I swear that was just his voice coming from your mouth.” Zuko grimaced.

“That would be...unsanitary,” he said, but Katara had to give him this. He didn’t break this time. He held his arm out to her with a shy smile. “Um...Can I escort you to the party?”

“So gallant!” Katara giggled as she looped her arm through his. “So, why aren’t you at the party already? Isn’t the Fire Lord supposed to kick off the last day of the Festival?” she asked. 

“Uncle really wanted to start off the festival tonight,” Zuko explained. “He’s been planning it for a while.”  
  
“Why didn’t you go?” Katara’s nose wrinkled in confusion. If Iroh had prepared a special opening, she would have expected Zuko to go watch. 

“He put together a musical performance,” he said with a shudder. “Most of the band were on the ship with us, and Uncle would have insisted on me playing the tsungi horn.” Katara laughed at that. She had heard Zuko play the horn a few times, and she thought he was pretty good. But he _hated_ playing it. 

“Where’s everyone else?” Katara glanced back towards the empty corridor behind her. 

“They went to see Uncle’s show,” Zuko said. Katara nodded. She had made the decision to wait until the party was well underway before she joined them. She didn’t know about Iroh’s opener, though, otherwise, she might have changed her mind. Oh, well. Next festival.

They made their way towards the public courtyard, where the party was already in full swing. Zuko motioned to his guards not to announce them so that they would be able to enter unnoticed. Katara smiled at him gratefully. 

The door they had come in through was just off the dance floor. It was already full of couples twirling and swaying to the music Iroh’s band was playing. Zuko cleared his throat beside Katara. 

“Um...you...you want to dance?” he asked. Katara turned to him, surprised at the invitation. But she smiled and allowed him to lead her out to the dance floor. 

Katara wasn’t great at the Fire Nation’s dances. Whenever she had danced with Aang, he favored a high energy, acrobatic style of dancing that didn’t suit the Fire Nation’s music. Or a dance partner for that matter. She had to rely heavily on Zuko’s guidance now, but he went slowly for her sake. After a while, Katara caught on to the rhythm and matched him move for move. It gave Katara a similar feeling to fighting beside him. Soon it didn’t feel as if Zuko were leading at all. It felt like they were moving in tandem. 

When the song ended, Katara and Zuko were suddenly surrounded by people complimenting their dancing and vying to be their next partners. Katara, not really wanting to entertain too many people, soon made her excuses to slip away into the pavilion. She glanced back once and saw Zuko waving her on. He drew everyone’s attention while she made her getaway, and Katara made a mental note to thank him later.

Once she was away from the dance floor, Katara realized that Sokka had been right. No one seemed to notice the missing water bending master had suddenly returned after half a year not being seen by anyone. Most of the party-goers were too drunk to recognize her. Those who weren’t too drunk were too distracted by the food vendors and game stalls to pay her much mind. It was liberating!

“There’s my sister!” Sokka and Suki found Katara examining a silversmith’s wares. They stumbled over towards her, both clearly quite tipsy.

“Hey, guys!” she greeted them. Sokka draped his free arm around Katara so that he had his wife and his sister in an embrace.  
  


“See what you almost missed?” Sokka shouted. “Aren’t you glad you came?” Katara laughed and shrugged off her brother.

“I am,” she said truthfully. She was having a great time so far. She had almost not thought about Hama or Aang at all.

“You _have_ to go see the juggler!” Suki exclaimed. Her eyes were shiny with excitement and the glow of slight intoxication. “He’s _amazing!_ ”

“No, no,” Sokka shook his head. “Honey, that was a girl.”

“It was a guy, Sokka.” Suki laughed. 

“No!” Sokka insisted. “She had all that hair…” He reached up to the top of his head and pretended to run his fingers through long, luxurious locks. 

“It was a _guy_ with long hair!” Suki said. “He wasn’t wearing a shirt!” Sokka’s eyes widened in shock and his mouth fell open in a giant O. 

“I just thought she was just _really_ flat-chested!” he told them. “My bad!” 

Toph found them a moment later, laden with food and drink. Sokka reached out and tried to take one of her shish kabobs, but with an amazing display of balance and dexterity, she managed to swat his hand away. 

“No you don’t!” she scolded him. “This is mine!”

“Aw! C’mon Toph!” Sokka complained. “All that is seriously for you?” 

“No!” Toph turned to Katara with a smirk and held out a cup. “ _This_ is for Sugar Queen.” Katara accepted the cup and took a sip. The liquid was cool and sweet, with a distinct undertaste of alcohol. 

“I like that,” she told Toph. “What is it?”

“Arrack punch.” Toph motioned for her to finish it. “Drink it fast! I’ll get you another cup.” Katara knew exactly what Toph was up to, but she just laughed. 

“Jun warned me about arrack,” she said. “I’m going to take my time on this. But thanks, Toph.”

The rest of the evening was more fun than Katara thought it would be. She moved through the crowds almost unremarked by anyone but her friends. That was exactly what she wanted. She managed to dance with a few more times before the party ended, mostly with Zuko, but also with young men who had suddenly remembered she was single. The slight buzz from the alcohol combined with the spinning, swirling Fire Nation dances left Katara feeling lighter and giddier than she had in...well, years if she were honest. It was well into the early hours of the morning before the party broke up. Sokka and Suki had turned in hours before. Toph had abandoned the party at the palace for some after-party or other by the docks. Zuko and Katara found each other as the crowds began to thin.

“Well, I escorted you _to_ the party,” Zuko said. “It’s only right I escort you _from._ ” It was a lame joke, but it made Katara laugh all the same. 

“I agree,” she said. She looped her arm through his and leaned against his shoulder. They caught the attention of the very few party guests who weren’t too drunk or tired to notice the Fire Lord and the Southern Chief’s daughter walking together. But soon, they had made it to the royal family’s garden, away from any too curious eyes. 

“This isn’t the way back to our rooms is it?” Katara asked when she finally noticed Zuko wasn’t leading her down the familiar route.  
  
“It’s a nice night,” he told her. “I thought we could go through the gardens.” The smell of lilacs filled the warm summer air, and Katara decided that Zuko was right. 

“You have really good ideas sometimes,” she teased him. 

“ _Sometimes_?” Zuko drew up, faking indignance, but he smiled when Katara laughed again. 

They passed near the turtleduck pond and Katara slipped away from Zuko to stand at the edge of it. Impulsively, she kicked her shoes off, hiked her skirts to her knees, and waded in. The water was cool against her skin, and the silt was soft and soothing to her feet. 

“I’ve missed this place,” she said quietly. Zuko stood behind her on the grass. Katara could feel him watching her. She knew that he- that _all_ of her friends- had been worried for her. She wasn’t quite sure if she could say that she was alright, but she knew she would be. She glanced back and smiled at Zuko, and it seemed that he knew she would be alright, too. 

Katara wasn’t sure how long she stood in the water, but the sky was beginning to lighten in the east. It was time for them both to go inside. With a sigh, Katara turned and started to climb out of the pond. As she started to place her wet foot on the dewy grass, her foot slipped and she stumbled forward into Zuko’s waiting arms. 

Maybe it was the combination of her grief and the relief of everything being over, Katara would later muse. Maybe it was because she had never felt so free in her life. Maybe it was the warm night and cool drinks. For whatever reason, when Zuko caught her from stumbling, and she found herself in his arms, and he leaned in with his eyes half-closed, it just felt right to close the distance. She kissed him first, she’s certain, but she’s equally certain that he would have if she hadn’t gotten the nerve first. It was a soft, chaste kiss- a brief meeting of their lips- but it was electrifying nonetheless. It felt so right. Still, Katara pulled away, out of his reach with her fingertips coming up to her lips. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have done that.” Zuko is thoughtfully quiet for a moment before he meets Katara’s eyes. 

“I’m not,” he said, sounding as surprised at his own words as Katara felt. 

“What?” Her brows furrowed in confusion. 

“I...I’m not sorry about…” Zuko cleared his throat nervously, shifting on his feet, and suddenly shy.   
  


“You aren’t?” 

“No,” Zuko shook his head emphatically. “I...I’ve wanted to do that for a while. But my timing sucked. And now probably isn't a good time either.”

“Zuko…” Katara’s voice trailed off, but her mouth opened and closed as she tried to reassemble her scrambled thoughts. Zuko squeezed his eyes shut as if he were about to do something painful, but necessary. 

“I don’t expect anything right now,” he told her. Then hurriedly he added, “Or at all, even. I...I just want you to know that I like you. I’ve...I’ve had feelings for you for a while.” He opened his eyes cautiously and found Katara staring at him with an unreadable expression on her face. She was silent. How long was _a while,_ she wondered.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “Forget I said anything. I’ve been drinking, and I…” His voice trailed off helplessly, and he took a step backward, towards the stairs. 

“Wait!” Katara’s hand shot out and caught his fingers before he could flee. “I don’t want to. I don’t want to forget you said that.” 

“You don’t?” Zuko’s jaw dropped in shock. It was cute, Katara decided giddily. She shook her head. 

“I don’t.” Then she heaved a sigh. “But you’re right.”

“About what?” Zuko tilted his head confusedly, and Katara decided that was cute, too. 

“Your timing is _awful_!” she laughed. “Just terrible. I’m leaving in a couple of days. I have to go home and show everyone what I learned from Hama. And then I have to go to the Northern Tribe to see Yugoda. I want to go to the Foggy Swamp to learn swamp bending, too. And…” Katara’s gaze dropped to the hand still clasped around Zuko’s. He took a step closer, and with his free hand gently lifted her chin so she was looking into his eyes. His kind, anxious, honey-brown eyes. 

“And?” he prompted. Katara sighed and shut her eyes, leaning into his touch. 

“And I don’t want you to be my rebound,” she said. She opened her eyes and held his gaze. “I like you, too. A lot. But after everything with Aang, I feel like I have so many things to sort out, and I don’t want you to think you’re just my distraction.” Zuko dropped his hand from her face, but he left his other one wrapped in Katara’s.

“I get it,” he said. “I’m not trying to pressure you into anything. This doesn’t have to go past tonight. I just wanted you to know I-” Katara cut him off with another kiss. This one lingered. Katara finally released his hand only to wrap her arms around his neck. Zuko pulled her closer, winding his arms around her waist. 

“I want this to go beyond tonight,” she told him when she finally broke away. “But I’m not ready for it right now.” Zuko nodded dazedly. 

“I’ll wait,” he promised. “As long as you want me to.” Katara smiled and planted another peck on his lips. It would turn out to be their last kiss for a long, long while. 

“‘I’ll come back,” she swore. Her smile widened as she took a step back. “Don’t forget, I _did_ promise to come and help you with your budget.” Zuko’s face split into a rare grin. She _had_ promised that, hadn’t she? This wasn’t a beginning for them. Not really. Not yet. But the promise of a beginning at some point in the future left them both almost painfully happy. Katara smiled up at Zuko and tried to imagine a future with him in it. It was easy, even if it would be a distant future. She could wait, too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we've come to the end of the road. Thank you all for going on this journey with me. I hope you enjoyed it! Happy Juneteenth, everyone!

**Author's Note:**

> Sure. A new story. It's not like I've got four WIPs or anything. ;P
> 
> If your comment makes me laugh, I'll dedicate the next chapter to you.


End file.
